A Siege of Assassins
by Eideann
Summary: Skeletor has decided to rectify a situation he finds intolerable . . . the continued existence of Prince Adam of Eternia. (Based on the 2002 MotU Series) -- STORY COMPLETE
1. Prologue & Chapter 1

_He-Man and the Masters of the Universe is a trademark belonging to Mattel. I do not own or claim rights to any of the characters that are part of that property._

_This is the first book in a trilogy of stories based on the first season of the new He-Man series (2002-2003). The second book is _Invisible Chains_, and it is posted in its entirety here. I have just run through this chapter and tuned it up a bit, just as I'm starting to post _Elemental Needs_._

**A Siege of Assassins**

**Prologue  
**  
An old man stood near one of the lovely fountains in the garden that stretched out in front of the palace of King Randor of Eternia, contemplating his options. He held in his hand a politely worded letter from his highness that denied his request.

Walking slowly, as befit his appearance of great age, he ambled over to a large copse of trees that was not too far away, ignoring the others who wandered these green and tranquil grounds. He simply had to have that device. Without it, all would go for naught. And Randor, Captain of the Eternian Guard, since become King of Eternia, was going to give it to him. Whether he wanted to or not.

Once he was out of sight under the trees, the old man paused, looked down at the letter again and crumpled it in his hand. This was completely unacceptable! He dropped it onto a flat rock and murmured a word in an ancient language. Flame began to lick at the edges of the paper. With satisfaction and malicious enjoyment, he imagined it was Randor who burned. Or better yet, Skeletor, who was the source and author of his misery.

When the ash was flying away on a gentle breeze, he turned back toward the palace. Fortunately, he had anticipated the possibility that Randor would refuse his perfectly reasonable request. Kings were not noted for their generosity. He had another plan. One he could put into motion immediately if all went well.

He concentrated briefly. The sensation was oddly pleasant as his body melted from one form to another. He had found the amulet that permitted this change quite by accident, but it had made so much possible. So much revenge and power were within his grasp now. A moment later, a young boy stood within the small stand of trees. He appeared to be around ten years old, and his clothing was tattered. There were bruises and abrasions on his back and shoulders.

Earlier in the day, just after lunch, he'd observed Prince Adam leaving with several others to go shopping in the city. This he had noted because the prince featured in most of his alternate plans.

Murmuring the words of the spell softly, he cast a spell to cloak himself. Once he was concealed, he left the cover of the trees and moved purposefully down into the town.

He saw some of the others who had accompanied the prince as he made his way through the markets, but he didn't see the prince immediately. A malevolent smile crossed his features when he located the young man. He had wandered away from his escort and was, in fact, on the edge of town. Everything was shaping up perfectly. All the boy had to do was lure the prince far enough into the wilderness that he could spirit him away to the prison he had devised for the purpose, and then Randor would do whatever he asked.

The young boy ran swiftly out of the town, still magically hidden. When he was out of sight, he dropped the spell of concealment and pelted back into town, a desperate look on his face. He stopped within sight of the prince, and put on a show of heavy breathing.

True to form, the idiotic prince ran up to him. "Are you all right?" he asked, catching the boy by the shoulders.

The hook had caught. Striving to keep his delight off his face, the boy looked up. "No, no!" he gasped. "My mother, my sister! There was an accident on the road, near the great boulders. I think my mother might be dying!"

Gratifyingly, the prince looked appalled. "Just a minute, let me get my -"

The boy seized Prince Adam's arm. "No, there's no time!" So saying, he dragged the prince along. A moment later, Adam started running along beside him.

"Where are they?" the prince asked. The boy shook his head and just tightened his grip, dragging the prince along with him. His desperation seemed to be answer enough for the young man. They ran side by side for awhile. "What happened?" the prince asked.

He would ask for details. The boy thought furiously. He was supposed to be a hysterical child, so a lack of coherence wouldn't seem odd. "It was an accident. Our cart. It was awful!"

Prince Adam nodded. "I'll do what I can to help," he assured the boy, who was searching for a likely spot to lead his unsuspecting quarry. They were approaching the boulders. He didn't dare take the prince too far off the road, or he wouldn't believe that there had been an accident. A little way further on, though, there was a deep ravine. That would be just about perfect.

Abruptly, though, he he realized that the prince was using his communication device to summon backup. He'd have to move quickly.

A sudden tingle made him curse internally. And now he could sense magic taking place nearby. Oddly familiar magic.

Irritation surged through him. He didn't want to run into Her. And from the sense he was getting of her power, she was very close. While the prince's attention was distracted, he bespelled himself again to conceal his whereabouts, then shifted his shape to a tiny tree-climbing rodent and dropped the spell. Finding a tall tree, he climbed it to the very top so he could watch the events unfold. The creature he had chosen had excellent hearing.

The prince finished his call to his friends, and the rodent in the tree watched as he looked around for the boy who had brought him out here. On the other side of the boulder, the rodent could see Evil-Lyn and one of those other idiots from Snake Mountain. The one Skeletor had mangled after his defeat by Captain Randor.

Focused on her, he heard her speak. "I sensed someone casting a spell nearby."

"So?" the metal-armed fellow said. The rodent couldn't remember what his new name was. Something about his jaw, perhaps. He used to be called Kronis, though.

"So there shouldn't be anyone around here who can cast spells." She glanced around warily. "It might mean that there are some of the masters nearby, with that strange little jester."

The jester? She was likening his magic to the jester's? She would pay dearly for that.

With mounting dismay, he watched the two approach the prince's position. That idiot was looking for the boy under bushes and behind rocks. "Hello!" he called. "Where'd you go?" He lifted his communications device to his lips again. "I'm at the edge of that huge lot of boulders outside the city. The boy has vanished, but I'm going to keep looking for his family. He may have run ahead or something."

He seemed to be completely oblivious to the fact that he was being observed. "See, I told you!" Evil-Lyn said quietly to Kronis. "There's Prince Adam. What do you suppose he's looking for?"

"Maybe he's playing hide and seek with the jester," Kronis replied, shrugging.

"Well, whatever he's doing," Evil-Lyn said irritably, "his presence could interfere with our task."

If it hadn't been the death of his plan, it would have been amusing to watch. Prince Adam was still looking around, calling out periodically. "Can you hear me? I'll help, but you have to tell me where you are!" Meanwhile, the witch and the warrior were sneaking up on him. But if Evil-Lyn killed the prince, he would have to work out another way to get a hold over Randor, and that wouldn't be easy. The rodent contemplated the other available options. That queen of his would be a powerful inducement to act, but the rodent didn't want to be near her if he could avoid it. The very thought was distasteful.

The moment when Prince Adam noticed Skeletor's minions creeping up on him was very comical. He reached back for his sword, but before he could draw it, Kronis shot a bolt of energy at him, causing the young man to dodge to the side and roll behind a big rock. The rodent was tempted briefly to aid the prince, but he didn't want to draw Evil-Lyn's attention. That, too, would be fatal to his plans. No one could know he was active again.

Prince Adam slid sideways to hide behind a taller boulder so that he could draw his blade. He was just peering around the other side when another blast from Kronis splintered the rock he'd been hiding behind a moment earlier. The prince jumped and slid back to hide completely behind his boulder.

The rodent watched nervously. They had better not kill that idiot boy! He needed him. The sound of footsteps caused him to dip on the branch and turn. Three of the 'masters' were running up. He heaved a sigh of relief. Surely they would deal with the problem.

He turned back to find that, while he was distracted, the two minions had found out the prince's hiding place and he was facing off against them alone. The rodent saw the prince's eyes widen when he saw help on its way, but then the idiot witch threw a blast of eldritch power at him, and sent the young man flying through the air and out of sight. The masters arrived at that point and engaged the villains, leaving the rodent free to scamper down from the tree and run across the open ground to the boulders. As soon as he could do so without being seen, he shifted his form into something with a keener nose. Shortly, a canine padded amongst the rocks, searching for his quarry.

He found the prince quickly, disregarding the sounds of the nearby battle. Prince Adam lay on his back, clearly unconscious, but just as clearly alive. The canine had to resist the urge to howl his triumph. He might have just enough time to slip down there, create a portal and carry the prince off.

Just as he was on the verge of trotting down to the young man's side, however, the girl who was always hanging about him showed up. Something in the canine's belly twisted uncomfortably. A female. He shifted his shoulders and his back, watching. It was too late.

Skeletor and his idiots would pay for interfering with his plans. When he had the power of that artifact, he would make Skeletor bow and scrape and abase himself.

In the meantime, he'd better head back to the palace and come up with yet another alternate plan.

* * *

**Chapter 1**

Adam woke abruptly to a gentle breeze and a sharp rock digging into his shoulder. _What am I doing outside?_

His eyes snapped open. Evil-lyn! Trap Jaw! That boy? The last thing he remembered was flying through the air after being hit by a bolt from Evil- lyn. He had to become He-Man and help the others.

He started to struggle to his feet, but a sudden pain in his left leg left him gasping. After a moment, he managed to sit up to see the damage. His calf was swollen above his boot, and something seemed wrong about the way it lay. An inch or so above his boot, there seemed to be an odd bulge.

"Here he is, Father!" He looked up, squinting against the bright sunlight to see Teela staring down at him from a boulder. Her relaxed stance convinced him that the battle was over. How long had he been out? "Father! Ram-Man! I found him!" She looked back down at him, lifting an ironic eyebrow. "Boy, are you a mess!"

"Thanks, Teela," Adam muttered, leaning back on his elbows. Was everybody okay? How did they drive Skeletor's minions off without He-Man's help? _What happened to the little boy?_

He shifted and rubbed his forehead to get rid of a tickling itch, and looked down with surprise at the redness on his hand.

Teela let out a startled shout. "Adam, are you bleeding?" She scrambled down from her perch and knelt beside him. "And what happened to your leg?" As she spoke, she popped open the little box on her belt that contained the tightly compressed fabric the masters used for field dressings.

Adam tried to push Teela's hands away from his head. "I'm fine, Teela! Don't-"

She sat back, glaring down at him. "You're bleeding, Adam. Don't be an idiot!"

"Calling your patient names seems a poor beside manner, Teela." Man-at- Arms stood atop another bolder, looking down at them. A moment later Ram- Man appeared, looking out of breath. "Just bind his wounds, and save the commentary for later."

They came down into the hollow, and Man-at-Arms sized the situation up. "We're going to have to splint that leg." Adam grimaced, but he nodded. "But what about that boy?" Adam asked before Duncan could start. "What happened to the kid and his mother and sister?"

"I'm sorry, Adam, we didn't find any sign of a boy or his family. I've got Mekanek and Stratos coming out to look around to see what they can find, but our first concern has to be getting your leg dealt with.

Ram-Man held him down, while Man-at-Arms gave his leg a precisely calculated yank. Somehow, Adam managed not to scream.

Duncan reached up and gave his shoulder a fatherly squeeze. "Ram-Man and I will cobble a stretcher together while Teela splints your leg."

Teela's hands were gentle as she wrapped his calf, but she shot him a sardonic look. "You know, Adam," she said in a tone that made him glare apprehensively at her. "Next time you do something like this . . . ." Her eyes took in the abrasions she'd bandaged earlier as well as the broken leg.

Adam bridled. "What do you mean, 'next time?'"

She shook her head, a knowing smirk on her lips. "Okay, fine. If you do this again, go ahead and yell when they set the bone. You looked like you were gonna have a stroke."

He watched her competent hands work for a moment, then cocked his head. "You know, Teela," he started, his tone a match for hers. She looked up, clearly anticipating an attack. "I never knew you were so medically inclined." She raised her eyebrows, surprised by praise, and turned back to her work. Adam grinned. "Maybe you should give up this warrior thing altogether and become a nurse."

Her eyes snapped back up and she glared at him. He grinned back unrepentantly and stretched. The injudicious movement sent pain shooting up his leg, and he let out an involuntary cry.

Teela looked up again, concerned. "I'm sorry, did I hurt you?" she asked quickly.

He shook his head, teeth clenched. "Not your fault."

After tucking the end of the bandage in and making sure the splint was secure, she reached into another compartment of her belt and pulled out a small packet of pills. "Father," she called. "Which analgesic should I give him?"

"None of them!" he called back, still out of sight.

Teela glanced down at his leg in surprise. "But Father, that's got to hurt!"

"Not till we're sure he's not concussed."

Teela gave Adam's face a thoughtful look, then nodded her acquiescence. "Sorry," she said again.

Adam shrugged and sank back to his elbows. His head had started to ache.

A thought struck him suddenly, and he sat up, hissing through his clenched teeth at the pain he caused himself. "Where's my sword?" he asked Teela as she turned to chide at him for moving so much.

Her eyebrows knit and she looked around. "I'm not sure." She stood to get a better look, then glanced down at him with a glint in her eye. "You're not lying on it, are you?"

Adam snapped back, stung, "If I was lying on it, I wouldn't have asked you where it was!"

They glared at each other for a moment, then Ram-Man's voice made them both look away. "Don't worry, Prince Adam, I found it. Here." Ram-Man handed him the sword as he and Man-at-Arms walked up with the make-shift stretcher.

"Hey, Teela," said Adam, looking at the sturdy structure. "Your father's 'cobbled-together' things look a lot more trustworthy than things other people spend hours on."

With a snort, Teela nodded.

Man-at-Arms helped him out of the harness that held his sheath before putting him on the stretcher. They headed back to the palace, and Adam became aware of a sinking feeling in his gut. This wasn't going to look good.

Desperately embarrassed, Adam cradled the sheathed sword in his arms all the way home. _I sure hope that kid is okay._

* * *

Adam knelt before his father's throne. All the masters were gathered round, and his mother watched fondly.

Randor's voice was full of approbation. "Truly, Adam, you've become a fine warrior. I am very proud of you, my son."

Adam basked in the glow of his fathers approval, but suddenly a shriek sounded nearby. He started to stand, but his father put a hand on his shoulder.

"Now, Adam, we're not done here."

"But Father, someone needs help!"

Randor shook his head. "He-Man can handle it."

"But -!" Adam tried vainly to work out a way to explain to his father the impossibility of this assumption, but the king just smiled and kept talking. He turned to try to leave and found himself surrounded by the masters, unable to get free of them, unable to even move, as a clanging crash rang out.

* * *

Adam jolted awake, still in the stretcher. Teela carried the foot and Ram- Man carried the head. Man-at-Arms was nowhere to be seen.

"What was that?" Adam muttered.

Ram-Man shrugged, which did interesting things to the stretcher. "I don't know," he said.

Teela peered back at him over her shoulder. "You don't look any worse. We'd better get you to the infirmary, though, before you scare somebody else."

Adam closed his eyes again, trying to pretend that he was asleep, so that he wouldn't have to see the startled and alarmed looks they got as they passed people. He tried to ignore the murmurs and whispers that followed their progress through the halls.

Arriving at the infirmary was a real relief, because the healers, after one appalled look, went to work very matter-of-factly. Within minutes they pronounced him free of concussion and gave him some pain-killing tablets.

He was thankful that they decided to wait for the analgesic to take effect before unwrapping his splint. Teela stayed just long enough to see him settled, then told him she would go find the queen. Ram-Man hovered worriedly in the background as she left.

Before she'd quite shut the door, he heard a voice from outside.

"Teela?" It was his father. Adam winced, dreading the embarrassment of explaining his injuries to his father. "Teela, where is he?" There was an odd catch the king's voice. Adam wondered if his father was coming down with a cold.

"In there," said Teela. "Where's Queen Marlena?"

"Oh, yes, of course." His voice sounded a little rough; he cleared his throat. "She's in the gardens. And, Teela, break it to her gently, if you can."

"Um. . .okay," said Teela, sounding no less confused by the request than Adam was. Break what to her gently? That her son was an idiot?

The door opened slowly, and his father came in. Adam peered up at him, not sure what to expect.

Not what he saw, that's for certain. The king's eyes were closed and his hand was pressed to his forehead. His head and shoulders drooped as he entered the room. The expression on his face made Adam wonder who'd died.

He sat up. "Father, what's wrong?" he asked, ignoring the twinge it sent through his leg.

Randor's eyes opened and his expression changed abruptly. Adam thought he'd never seen his father more thunderstruck. "Adam! You're not - they said -" Randor shook his head wonderingly, then fell to one knee and clasped Adam in a bear hug, lifting him half off the bed.

Adam cried out involuntarily as his father's impetuous gesture caused the sensation in his leg to shift from a constant ache back to acute pain. Randor let go and pulled back as if stung. "Are you all right? What did -"

The door flung open and Man-at-Arms checked his momentum against the frame.

"Randor! Randor, Adam's not dead - oh."

"Dead?" exclaimed Adam. "Of course I'm not - who said I was -"

Randor blinked and rubbed his eyes with his hand, and Adam realized that there were tears in his father's eyes.

He shook his head and leaned towards him. "Father, no, I'm fine. Just a broken leg and - ow!" The abused muscles of his calf protested the movement.

Randor placed gentle hands on Adam's shoulders. "Lie back, son, and rest."

Man-at-Arms took a chair from by the wall and offered it to the king.

"Thank you, Duncan," Randor said. Just as he sat down, though, the door opened again and Marlena came in swiftly, followed closely by Teela. She looked sharply down at Adam's face and all the tension went out of her. She sank into the chair hastily vacated by her husband.

Leaning forward, she took her son's hand tightly in hers and said, "Adam, what happened?" He opened his mouth to answer, but closed it as a wave of dizziness swept him. He blinked a couple of times and stared up at both of his mother, sitting and gazing down at him concernedly. "Evil-lyn. . .and I. . .my sword. . ." His brain seemed suddenly disconnected from his tongue. "He-Man. . ."

Man-at-Arms' eyes widened and he made an abortive move towards him. Fortunately, before Adam could say anything more revealing about He-Man, Orko came zipping in, bawling loudly, tears streaming down his tunic. He looked down at the bed and stopped dead, staring.

Dorgan, the old healer who'd been handling the royal family's needs ever since Adam could remember, swam into view. He said, "Your highness, you'll probably want to ask him questions later. The medicine we gave him - well, his answers won't make much sense."

Marlena nodded, and patted his hand. Adam smiled faintly and closed his eyes. A blackness had started around the edges of his vision, and there were already too many people there before they started doubling. Dimly, he heard Dorgan asking everybody but his parents to leave.

* * *

Adam opened his eyes slowly. Had that all been a really intense dream? Please? Sunlight played across the ceiling of the infirmary. He was lying on his back, shoulders slightly elevated, his left leg propped up on pillows. In the cast, it looked nearly the size of He-Man's leg. Adam snorted. Not a dream, then.

Cringer poked his head up above the footboard of the bed, alerted by the sound that Adam was awake. He padded up towards the head of the bed and jumped up so that his front paws were by Adam's shoulder and licked his cheek.

Adam reached out and scratched his best friend's head. "You weren't worried, were you, Cringer? I'm gonna be fine."

A footstep in the hall outside made Cringer tense. Before Adam could reassure him, the big cat spun and faced the door, a growl resonating deep in his throat. Adam stared at him, taken aback by this uncharacteristic behavior.

When the door opened, Cringer hissed and crouched as if to pounce. Man-at- Arms stood framed in the doorway, looking down at Cringer, first in surprise, then with approval.

"Good boy, Cringer," he said, squatting in front of him. The cat's hostility ebbed and he started shaking all over. "It's okay, boy, Adam's all right." Man-at-Arms patted Cringer's head, and the cat rubbed his hand gratefully, his tremors subsiding gradually.

Duncan looked up at Adam. "Glad to see you're awake. The whole palace is spooked. Lady Asala must have gone room to room, telling everyone she saw."

"Oh no," Adam groaned. "I was really hoping that was a dream."

"No. About half the kingdom and a quarter of the palace residents still think you're dead. You'll probably have a steady stream of visitors as soon as the healers allow it."

"Whatever happened to that kid?" Adam asked. "Is he okay? And what about his mom?"

Duncan gave him a worried look. "About that, Adam, well . . ."

The door opened again, and Cringer tried to cram himself under the bed, failing dismally. Between them, Man-at-Arms and Adam calmed the cat.

Adam's father stood in the doorway with a large pot of flowers in his hands, gazing down at Cringer in exasperation.

"Dad," Adam exclaimed. "You should have seen it! He hissed and growled at Man-at-Arms!"

"Really?" Randor asked skeptically. Man-at-Arms nodded confirmation. "Well, then, why. . .?" The king gestured at Cringer and the bed.

"Perhaps because I'm here, now," suggested Man-at-Arms.

Randor tilted his head slightly. "So Adam's safe." He nodded, smiling down at the animal, who purred softly in response. "You're a good cat, Cringer, keep it up."

"Your highness, Adam just asked about the boy who lured him out to the -"

"Lured me?" Adam exclaimed. "I wasn't lured. There was a kid in trouble. I just tried to help him."

His father shook his head. "I'm sorry, Adam, but no one has been able to find any sign of the child or his family. We have come to suspect that it was a ploy by Evil-Lyn to lure you out where you would be helpless."

Adam flopped his head back against the pillow and groaned. "So it was just a trick?"

His father sighed. "We can't find any evidence to the contrary. Adam, what possessed you to go haring off like that without backup?"

"I called Man-at-Arms!" Adam protested. "But if there really had been a woman dying out there, I couldn't have just waited, now could I?" His father grimaced. "I had to go."

The king shook his head. "I know how you feel, but . . . it could have been very bad. I am glad you called Man-at-Arms, but next time perhaps you should . . . I don't know." He walked across to the window and put down the pot of blooming irises on the table there. Adam couldn't help thinking that if he had actually saved some woman's life, he wouldn't be getting a lecture now. He sighed. Nothing he did was ever right. Then he realized what the plant must mean.

"Somebody sent me flowers?" Adam brightened.

Randor pursed his lips, his eyes alight with a joke Adam didn't understand. "Not exactly, son. They're for your funeral."

"My what?!" Adam exclaimed.

"Stratos came in from Avion with them, they're apparently a traditional funerary offering there. He asked me to plant them on your grave." Adam stared at the flowers in shock.

His father quirked a sympathetic grin at him. "I brought him and a couple of the other masters in to see you while you were asleep and sent them out to spread the word." A thoughtful look came over Randor's face. "The snoring seemed to convince them that you were fine."

Adam groaned. "I was snoring?"

"Loudly," his father confirmed. "Actually Stratos was very alarmed at first. Apparently Avions don't snore. But Man-E-Faces and Mekanek reassured him that it was perfectly normal, especially for a teenaged boy. When Stratos realized that you were, in fact, alive, he was quite overcome."

Adam sank down further into the bed, wishing he could disappear. "Couldn't you have waited till I was awake?" he asked, hating how whiny his voice sounded.

"We had to spread the news as soon as possible, and I thought they'd testify more convincingly if they actually saw you."

Man-at-Arms gave the king a wry look. "In resonant life?" he asked.

Adam resolutely ignored their gibes and returned to what he saw as the heart of the matter. "Where did Lady Asala get the notion that I was dead?" he demanded.

Man-at-Arms and his father exchanged amused glances, and his father said, "According to her, she saw you carried in on your shield, your sword held heroically on your chest."

"It wasn't a shield!" Adam exclaimed, trying to dismiss the image this description called up. "Sheesh! I don't even have a shield!"

Randor chuckled ironically. "Your mother has had a long, private talk with her about making assumptions and spreading rumors. One hopes she won't be indulging her taste for melodrama again any time soon."

Orko flitted in through the window, narrowly missing the irises. "K-k-king Randor?!" he stuttered. "Th-this was by the palace gates!" He was carrying a white box tied shut with a purple ribbon in trembling hands. Gazing at it, Randor's expression darkened.

Adam looked back and forth between his father's sudden grimness, Orko's panic and Man-at-Arms' alarm, confused by their reactions. It was just a box, after all. A present? "What is it?" he asked.

Randor snatched the box out of Orko's hands and ripped it open.

"Your highness!" Man-at-Arms moved, too late, to prevent the king from opening the package.

The box halves fell away and Adam craned his neck to see what it had contained. His father held a single black rose in one hand, and a note in the other. His expression darkened to a scowl as he read the missive. His eyes snapped with fury as he thrust the page at Duncan, who scanned it quickly and looked up, brows knit.

"Is it a premature gloat, or an overdue threat?" Duncan asked, puzzled.

Randor threw the rose to the floor and ground it under his heel. Adam felt frozen by this level of animosity in his father. What was going on?

"It hardly matters, Duncan," he growled. "We have to treat it as a threat." His eyes made a rapid appraisal of the room. "This space is totally undefensable. We've got to move him."

Man-at-Arms nodded curtly. "I'll get his own room prepared, your highness, and alert the guard."

Orko was nervously jittering around the room. Adam couldn't figure out what was going on, but as Man-at-Arms left, the slip of parchment came into his reach. He snatched it and read quickly before his father could take it away.

_To the king of Eternia, Greetings:_

_I offer my condolences on the oh so timely loss of your son. Perhaps you should keep better track of your toys, my dear Randor, before you lose any more of your little wooden soldiers._

_My condolences to the queen._

_With utmost sincerity,_

_Skeletor_

Adam's hand dropped to his side and he sank back against the bed, feeling sick. "Why me?" he muttered helplessly.

* * *

_Tuned up 02/02/09 with help from Delora2047_


	2. Chapter 2

**Chapter 2**

Adam cowered under his blanket on the stretcher as they carried him through the halls. The king snatched the blanket off him. "Father!" Adam exclaimed in protest.

"I'm not having you carried through the public halls on a covered stretcher! Let's not feed the rumors."

Adam laid back crossly, arms folded on his chest. He glared up at this father. "Could you at least cover up the stupid pajamas?"

"No!" Randor declared gruffly.

They moved on a few feet. Adam could feel his face burning as some of the younger ladies of the court walked by. The giggling that started just after they passed made him go even redder.

"Don't you think we could have moved me at night?"

"No, Adam, I don't think -"

"Randor!"

Adam's father jumped at the angry tone of Marlena's voice.

"Why are you just carrying that blanket, Randor? Adam should be covered up." Firmly, she took the blanket from him and started spreading it over her son. Adam gave his father a triumphant smile.

"You're right, Marlena," Randor said, gesturing for those carrying the stretcher to stop. "I don't know what I was thinking. Be sure and tuck it in tightly, my dear."

Adam's smile faded as his mother tucked him in thoroughly right in front of a crowd of courtiers. He gave his father a dirty look, and said, "Mother, it's fine. I'm fine." She just kept tucking away.

Over her shoulder, he glimpsed Teela walking towards them and writhed internally. Teela's eyebrows rose almost to her hairline and her mouth twitched, but fortunately she managed to keep from laughing. Otherwise Adam might just have risen up off the stretcher and strangled her.

She turned to King Randor and said, "My father asked me to tell you that the Prince's room is ready, your highness."

"Good, thank you, Teela."

"There, sweetheart," his mother said, pulling back. "Are you more comfortable?"

Adam nodded helplessly, and the convoy carried on.

Marlena stayed in his room for a long while, fussing over him, over his bed, over his lunch. . . . He could hear his father outside, giving orders to guards to take positions under his windows.

He managed a faint smile for his mother when she finally left. As soon as the door was shut behind her, he yanked the extra pillows out from behind him and threw them on the floor.

Teela tsked at him and walked over to look down at his reddening face. "Adam, sweetheart," she said, her voice dripping with sugar. "Are you sure you don't need me to tuck you in?"

Adam glared at her. "Gee, Teela. . .no! You really don't have to stay."

"Actually, I really do. The king gave orders that one of the masters was to be with you at all times." She looked at her fingernails and sighed dramatically. "I drew the short straw."

Awhile later, Teela and Adam were bickering amiably over a game of Panther Strike when Man-at-Arms came in with a pile of books. Teela's eyebrows rose and she gave Adam a sympathetic look.

"I thought now might be a good chance for you to catch up on your studies." He began putting the books down on the bedside table. "History, diplomacy, economics. . ." Adam gulped, as, with a flourish, Man-at-Arms added, "Etiquette."

"Wow, Adam, looks like you've got your work cut out for you," Teela said, her eyes dancing.

Her father looked at her with an amused expression that gave Adam hope for some payback. "These are areas you need work on, too, Teela. Since you volunteered to sit with Adam, I thought it might be a good idea for the two of you to work together." Teela just stared back at him, stunned.

Volunteered? Adam gave Teela a sidelong look. "Short straw, huh?" he muttered in an undertone. Man-at-Arms didn't seem to notice, but Teela rewarded him with a sideways glare. Adam grinned. Suddenly he felt marginally better about having to work while he was stuck in bed.

Man-at-Arms stood up straight and favored them both with a serious look. "I'll expect you both to be able to answer some preliminary questions on Dorno's treason, and why he failed, and how his failure led to the Pelian war."

When her father had left and the door was shut behind him, Teela turned and glared at Adam. "This is all your fault! You had to go and break your leg."

* * *

Evil-Lyn stalked into the throne room at Snake Mountain, thoroughly out of sorts. That - that warrior girl! That orange-haired, muscle-bound beast of a girl-child was getting on her nerves. She'd temporarily immobilized Man-at-Arms, but the moment that she'd sent the prince flying, that wretch had pounced on her, blocking her every move, and finally sent her staff spinning away.

Then that blundering dolt Trap Jaw had allowed himself to be knocked silly by the bumbling idiot Ram-Man.

Man-at-Arms was back on his feet by then, so, with all three of them focused on her, she'd set off a brilliant flash of light and, snatching up her staff, escaped while they were still blinded.

She was not looking forward to explaining this failure to -

A nasal voice broke into her thoughts. "Evil-Lyn!" The lord of Snake Mountain leaned forward, gazing down at her. She froze, looking uneasily up at the faceless figure atop his throne. Strange, his eyes weren't glowing red. In fact, he appeared to be grinning. "Congratulations!" he said jovially.

Evil-Lyn raised a wary eyebrow. He was at his most dangerous when cheery like this. _What is he on about?_ she wondered.

"You killed Prince Adam," he cackled. "I've already sent his father my most sincere condolences!"

"He's dead?" Evil-Lyn asked incredulously, pleasure lighting her face, all wariness banished. How marvelous! The useless boy was dead. That would serve the carrot-topped harpy right.

"Tri-Klops! Show us the prince's body!" commanded Skeletor. He gave Evil- Lyn a toothy grin, which she returned. "Does Randor have him laying in state, do you suppose?"

Evil-Lyn looked eagerly as the Doomseeker's image clarified. Having Skeletor happy with her would make a nice change.

The view appeared to be a bedroom in the royal palace. The orange-haired creature sat reading beside the bed where Prince Adam lay. Evil-Lyn's eyes narrowed, pleasure gone. There was no still figure in stiff royal robes, no pale mother weeping over her boy, no Randor looking stricken and stern. Instead, Prince Adam had a cast on one leg and a book lay open on his lap. His brow was furrowed in concentration as he turned aside from the book to jot something down.

She looked up at Skeletor, one eyebrow raised ironically. "They appear to be studying. He certainly doesn't look dead." She glanced back at the doomseeker's image where Prince Adam sighed and turned a page. "Just dead bored. Do you suppose your informant heard wrong?"

Skeletor's eyes began to glow - not at her, Evil-Lyn was pleased to note. "Beastman, would you care to explain this?"

The fuzzy red oaf reared back in dismay. "It's what those two morons who ambushed me said," he huffed defensively. "Man-E-Faces and Mekanek!" Evil-Lyn started in amazement. Beastman was calling them morons?!

She tried unsuccessfully to keep from laughing aloud. "Furface told you?" she exclaimed. "And you believed him?" Beastman growled at her but she ignored his irritation.

Tri-Klops cleared his throat. "Hey, we might want to listen to this."

They all turned back just in time to hear Teela speak.

"So, Adam, what's got your dad so worked up?"

The prince looked up from his book, a pained expression on his face. "He got a condolence note from Skeletor." The girl's eyes widened and she snickered. The prince shrugged.

Evil-Lyn spared a glance for Skeletor. The red glow of his eyes was now coin-sized. She was glad that Beastman had so neatly deflected his displeasure to himself. She'd have to thank him later. The milk-faced prince went on, then, so she couldn't take the time to revel in Beastman's discomfiture.

"Well, he's taking it for a threat to kill me." Evil-Lyn raised a brow. She hadn't thought Randor capable of such creative thought. How amusing.

"Oh, he probably just heard one of Lady Asala's rumors," Teela said dismissively.

Skeletor gestured Tri-Klops to quiet the image. "How very interesting," Skeletor drawled. "Well, we can't disappoint the good king, now can we?"

"What do you mean, Skeletor?" asked Clawful. Evil-Lyn rolled her eyes at his stupidity. "I thought we liked to disappoint him?" the crustacian added.

There was a flash of light from Skeletor's ram-headed staff as he answered Clawful's idiocy in his usual manner. Then he leaned forward. "I would like to invite you all to use what limited brains you have to come up with some way to meet Randor's expectations of me." The others stared up at Skeletor in bafflement. He sighed deeply and explained it for the benefit of the dunderheads. "Whichever of you manages to eliminate the prince will be substantially rewarded."

There was a muttering at that, as each of them glanced covertly at the others. Evil-Lyn remained calm, gazing up at Skeletor. This seemed to have been a tactical error, for it seemed to draw the bony one's attention to her.

"Beastman, Evil-Lyn, perhaps you two ought to team up," Skeletor said, gazing ironically down at her. "Between your ill-timed announcement, Beastman, and your bungling, Evil-Lyn, you both have quite a lot to make up for."

Stung, Evil-Lyn threw her shoulders back. "I wasn't trying to destroy the Prince!" she exclaimed.

"Well, why not?" Skeletor demanded. The others all started laughing, even Beastman. Aware of having acted the fool, she glared around at all of them. One day they would all pay for every jot of humiliation she'd suffered in this room.

"Very well," Evil-Lyn said imperiously. "Beastman, come along, if you're quite done trying to cough up hair balls." His jaws snapped shut and he lunged at her. "I've got a plan," she said quietly to him as he came into range. "Do you?"

His eyes narrowed and he followed her out of the throne room without further comment.

* * *

Adam was very tired of being in bed. Two days he'd been stuck his room with Teela. Occasionally someone like Mekanek or Sy-Klone would come in to spell her, but Adam sighed in relief when she left to go to the bathroom towards noon, actually leaving him alone for five minutes. Cringer was outside, getting some air.

He was checking through the accuracy of the family tree they'd created to help them with the history of the Pelian Wars when the sound of laser fire crackled through the air. Was Man-at-Arms testing a new weapon? Screams echoed up from the palace courtyard. That and the sounds of running footsteps and the masters yelling convinced him otherwise.

Without giving it much real thought, Adam struggled to his feet, hissing at the pain he caused himself. Teela was just in the bathroom. It wouldn't do for her to come out in the middle of the transformation. Using his sheathed sword as an unorthodox crutch, he hopped over into his closet. Drawing the sword, he cried, "By the Power of Grayskull!" The mystical energies swirled around him, filling and altering him. He felt a brief pain as the cast on his leg exploded, and then the power welled up in him. "I have the Power!" he proclaimed.

Just as he stepped out of the closet, Teela burst into the room. She took in the empty, disheveled bed and He-Man's presence near the closet with one glance. "Where's Adam?" she nearly shrieked, her face a mask of panic. He- Man opened his mouth, unsure of what to say. The panic in her face abruptly gave way to her usual air of competence. "Okay, you've checked his closet. We've got to find him!" she declared, turning to run out of the room.

He-Man vaulted the bed and followed her out, belatedly realizing that his leg was no longer injured and wondering how he would have explained it had that not been the case.

As he caught up with Teela at the first intersection in the hallways, she turned back to face him. "That way," she ordered him peremptorily, and pelted off down the other hall herself.

He-Man followed her instructions since the hall she pointed to led to the courtyard and thus to the battle. He emerged into the sunlight about three feet from where Man-at-Arms was struggling with a one-eyed robot. He picked the metal-jawed menace up by its neck and flung it into a reflecting pool where it jolted and sparked most satisfactorily.

Man-at-Arms stared at him, his gaze going quickly to his left leg and then back up to his eyes. He-Man shrugged, and they turned to face the melee together.

Out of the corner of his mouth, though, Man-at-Arms said, "What were you planning to do if your leg was still damaged?"

He-Man shrugged, and then was quickly engaged by two more robots. With little effort he flung them aside and scanned the courtyard. Tri-Klops stood near one of the outer walls, holding a large, complicated box that appeared to control the legion of robots he'd flooded the palace with. The masters were scattered, fighting individual robots, and members of the court were fleeing for cover. The king ran out from another building of the palace complex and began harrying the robots who were trying to prevent the non-combatants from escaping.

Two more robots came at He-Man, and he slammed them together, reducing them to sizzling circuits. He began slicing his way through the horde of metal monsters toward their controller. Tri-Klops appeared to be focused on an image from one of his Doomseekers of the halls of the palace - and Teela running through it, fruitlessly searching for Adam.

Sympathy for Teela's desperation gave way to a surge of rage, He-Man brought his sword down through the center of Tri-Klops' control box, then grabbed him by the throat. There was a loud crashing of metal all around him as the swarm of robots fell, disabled.

Two of the masters arrived at his elbow and took Tri-Klops from him.

Randor came forward, breathing heavily and sheathed his sword. "Take him away!" he commanded glaring at Tri-Klops. "Thank you, He-Man," he said, turning to the champion. Deep inside, Adam wished that his father would look at the real him that way. "Father!" Teela's voice came from one of the doorways into the courtyard. "King Randor! Adam's disappeared!"

"What?" the king exclaimed. He took off running toward the captain of the guard.

Man-at-Arms appeared at He-Man's side and gave him a not-so-subtle nudge. "I'll look for him this way!" He-Man declared and ran off toward the palace. All of the masters joined in, together with much of the palace guard. He-Man kept trying to get to Prince Adam's room, but the plethora of searchers defeated his attempts. Finally, in desperation, he found himself an unoccupied corner and, lifting his sword, changed back.

There was a sickening wrench in his leg as Prince Adam's injury returned. He was standing with half his weight on the mangled leg, and he felt the bones grate and shift position. He screamed and fell to the ground, the sword clattering just out of his reach. He strained for it, briefly, then darkness overcame him.

* * *

_Tuned up 02/02/09 with help from Delora2047_


	3. Chapter 3

**Chapter 3**

Adam awoke to see Teela's frightened face hovering over him, his leg throbbing. "Oh, no," he groaned. A moment later, his father's face replaced Teela's.

"Adam!" he said. "What happened? Son, did they hurt you?"

"Am I," Adam asked, pausing to grunt slightly as a movement caused the pain in his leg to grow, "on another stretcher?" He could see Orko flitting around over his father's shoulder like an agitated bumblebee. A very protective bumblebee, trying to look all directions at once.

"Yes, son, we're taking you to the infirmary so that Dorgan can look at your leg."

Adam grimaced. "It really hurts."

"What happened to your cast?" Teela demanded.

Adam thought about all the little bits of plaster that must be littering his closet floor and closed his eyes. Maybe he could get Orko to clean that up for him later.

"Randor, Teela, don't ask him any questions now," exclaimed his mother, running up. "Can't you see he's in pain?" Cringer, looking worried, butted Teela out of the way so he could walk alongside the stretcher. Adam reached out to scratch the cat's head, then brought his hand back sharply to his side as a spike of pain shot up from his calf.

After that the trip back to the infirmary was silent. Adam clenched his teeth. How was it that his leg hurt more now?

When they reached the infirmary and Dorgan, Adam got his answer. Dorgan had been the healer for the royal family for as long as Adam could remember. As he spoke, Adam began to feel disconnected from his body. He shook his head, trying to clear it. No one had given him any medication, yet, had they? "The prince has rebroken his leg and re-traumatized all the muscles and tendons around the bones. Given the trauma that was already there, his injury is now much worse." Adam's mother had taken his hand again, and she patted it as the healer spoke. She seemed to be sitting in a fog.

"Duncan," his father said. Adam turned his head, trying to see him, but his vision was blurring. "How could this happen?"

"I'm not sure, your highness. The guards below the windows were taken out early in the fighting -"

"How are they?" his mother interjected.

"Recovering, your highness," said the healer. "Prince Adam, please take these pills."

Adam tried to push the hand away. "No, fuzzy 'nuff already."

"Does he have a concussion?" demanded Randor in alarm. His face seemed to come closer and then recede again. Adam watched it curiously as it rippled like water in a pond.

"No, your highness. He's taking a fever. It's not uncommon with injuries such as this. Prince, Adam, you really must take these pills." His father helped the healer get the pills into him, and Adam sighed.

"Do you suppose that one of the robots might have gotten inside?" Randor asked. "Taken him from his room?"

Teela spoke, her voice sounding oddly subdued. "I'm sorry, your highness, it's my fault. I shouldn't have left him alone."

"No!" Adam said, as firmly as he could. "Not your fault. He-Man - had to help -"

"He's delirious!" Man-at-Arms said, sounding alarmed. Adam blinked. Was that what was wrong?

"I think you should have this conversation elsewhere, Randor," his mother said. "Teela, don't worry, it's not your fault." There was the sound of feet moving, then the door closed. "Orko, you too. He doesn't need entertained, right now, and I'll stay with him." There was a brief pause as the door opened and closed again. Then his mother leaned close and said, "Now, Adam, go to sleep."

Sleep. Now that sounded like a good idea.

* * *

Evil-Lyn smiled. Her plan was working perfectly. Tri-Klops had been the first one of her ham-handed colleagues to make any sort of move against the royal palace. She and Beastman had slipped in amid the chaos of the attack, and singled out the two people she had targeted. Now Lady Asala and her maidservant lay bound and gagged in the lady's bedroom, and she and Beastman had new forms. Evil-Lyn gave him a sidelong look, amused. Not that he liked his new form.

"I'm tiny!" he complained in the sweet little voice, looking down at the petite form of the pretty maidservant. "How am I supposed to kill the prince like this?"

"And I was just thinking that blond hair suited you," Evil-Lyn said. Beastman growled in soprano, which sounded distinctly odd. "It's not as though you've lost any of your strength, fool. You only look harmless."

She eyed herself in the mirror. This Lady Asala was a simpering creature with honey brown hair and hazel eyes.

"Evil-Lyn, I -"

"You must call me 'Lady Asala,' Phoebe," Evil-Lyn said. "That is the maid's name, isn't it?"

"I don't remember," Beastman grumbled.

Evil-Lyn rose and went into the bedroom. She loosened the gag on Lady Asala's mouth. "What is your maid's name, again?" The girl's eyes were wide with terror. She didn't seem able to speak. "Come now, what's her name?"

"F-Fenella."

"Ah." Looking at the two of them, she realized that she couldn't risk either of them getting their gags loose. She raised her arms and summoned her power. "Useless girls, whose terror freezes," she intoned. "Peaceful dreams and slumber take you. Forget for now the plight that seizes. Sleep till charming prince doth wake you."

Both the women sighed and fell deeply asleep. "That should hold them," Evil-Lyn murmured. "And since we'll be doing away with the only prince around, however charming, it should hold them a good long time." She threw her head back in delighted laughter.

* * *

Adam lay back, eyes closed, listening to his father speak. "I've got four guards now, outside the windows, and the guard outside the door will come inside if Teela feels the need to - to -"

"Yes," said Man-at-Arms, quickly, to save the king from embarrassment.

"Is there anything else we should prepare? Do you think we should have someone else in here, in addition to Teela?"

"No, Randor, I think that's sufficient."

"I'm not sure. . ."

Adam wrinkled his brows and groaned at the thought of just how over-protective his father was getting. And his mother. And even Man-at-Arms!

"Adam!" his father exclaimed, coming over to kneel by the bed. Adam opened his eyes and looked into the worried face of his father. "Are you all right?"

"I'm fine, but I don't want to have a zillion people around me all the time." Cringer's head popped up on the other side of the bed. Adam put his hand on the cat's chin and scratched absently.

"No, no, I understand, son, but if Skeletor's after you. . ."

"How is that any different than normal?" Adam asked, feeling the drugs running away with his tongue again. "Skeletor's always after me. He never lets up. Just one plot after another." Cringer's head shifted under his hand, and his worried eyes appeared next to Adam's face. With an effort, Adam closed his mouth.

His father looked alarmed. "No, son. I - you -"

Man-at-Arms put a hand on Randor's shoulder. "I think the medications may be making him a touch paranoid, sire. Don't put too much credence in his ramblings."

Randor took a deep breath and sighed. "It will be all right, Adam. We will deal with Skeletor. You just concentrate on getting well."

"It'll be easier to concentrate if I'm not surrounded by people."

"I understand, Adam."

The door opened and Teela came in, followed by Adam's mother and Orko. He gave them a faint smile. Then a servant came in behind them and started setting up a camp cot in the corner. "What's that for?"

"I'm going to be sleeping in here, for awhile," said Randor.

Adam blinked. His father was coming unhinged.

Randor smiled down at him, tousled his hair and stood up. "All right, Duncan, shall we assess the rest of our security precautions?"

Man-at-Arms nodded and they left the room. His mother looked down at him. "Adam, are you all right?" Adam shrugged. "Are you hungry?"

"Not really. These medicines make me feel kind of sick at my stomach."

"You need to eat."

"Maybe some soup or something," Adam said. "I'm okay, Mother, really. I just want to stop being stuck in bed."

She smiled at him sympathetically. "I'll have the cook send you some soup."

As the door shut behind her, Orko floated uncertainly by the door. "Is there anything I can get for you, Adam?"

"Thanks, Orko, but no," Adam said.

"Are you sure?" Orko exclaimed, his fingers busily wiggling. "How about a drink!" A glass of juice popped into the air to float before Orko. "Or another pillow?" A pillow popped in to join the juice. "A game?" A chess board and all the pieces appeared. The air in front of Orko was beginning to be a little crowded. Adam, speechless, looked apprehensively at the floating objects. "How about a book?" A flock of large, heavy, leather-bound tomes appeared, floating over Adam, who gazed up nervously.

His voice cracked as he said, "Orko? Are you sure you can hold all of those up?"

"Huh?" The confusion in little Trollan jester's voice didn't fill Adam with confidence.

"Orko!!!" Teela cried. "I don't think I can catch all of that if you drop it!"

"Um. . ." Orko said, his voice quavering. Adam gave Teela an alarmed look. "Give me a minute," the jester added.

Suddenly, all the hovering objects began to swirl together, like a tornado, growing ever faster.

Teela's voice joined Adam's in a yell. "Orko!!!!"

There was a splash as the juice flew out of the glass and splattered across Orko, then, with a sudden pop, all the items vanished into thin air. Teela, her eyes snapping with fury, took two steps toward Orko, who suddenly flung the door open and disappeared through it. Adam sank back against the pillows, breathing hard. Teela walked over and made sure the door was shut. Then she walked back over by the bed and stood gazing down at him with an odd look on her face.

"So, what kind of smart remark have you been saving till everyone else left?" he asked dispiritedly.

Teela shook her head, looking worried. "I'm sorry, Adam, I should apologize. I thought you'd gone off to hide somewhere, or something, during the fight." She shrugged. "I-"

Adam could feel himself reddening. Clearing his throat, he interrupted her. "Do you think your father will let us off knowing about the Pelian wars?"

Teela looked thoughtful. "I don't know - probably."

Sighing, Adam looked over at the books. History beat Teela insulting him by apologizing. It was bad enough knowing what she assumed, he didn't really want to hear about it. "So let's surprise him by our diligence."

Teela blinked. "You must be really bored."

Because the medications blurred his vision, he couldn't read, so Teela sat beside the bed, reading aloud about the imbecilities that led to the Pelian war.

* * *

Hours later, he and Teela were having a mild disagreement. "Yeah, but Teela, if Lord Tevin hadn't led the charge against the -"

"It wasn't Tevin who made the difference. It was Kepral -"

Randor and Man-at-Arms burst in through the door suddenly. Man-at-Arms made a beeline for the bathroom while Adam's father hurried to the window. Cringer came running out from the bathroom where he'd been sleeping on the bath mat and flung himself under Adam's bed. Teela and Adam shared a confused glance.

"What is it, Father?" asked Adam in some alarm.

Randor's chest heaved. He took a moment to regulate his breathing, then said, "There was another attack, this time through the sewers."

"Yes," Man-at-Arms agreed, emerging from the bathroom. He shook his head at Randor, who looked measurably relieved. "Merman and Clawful led a troop of sea snakes into the palace cellars. We weren't sure that someone hadn't slipped in to come upstairs."

Teela got a sick look in her eyes. "Snakes? What if they're just in the pipes, waiting?" she asked.

Adam glanced up at her, shocked by an imagination that thought of such things. Randor's alarm returned, and he glanced at Duncan.

"I'll find some way to clear the pipes," Man-at-Arms said, then left the room rapidly. Randor stayed, standing between Adam's bed and the bathroom.

Adam lay back, trying to stay calm. Snakes in the pipes. Eeuw! After a few moments, he shook his head. He was not going to let this get to him so much. He had to change the subject.

"Father," he said. "Can you settle a disagreement?" Randor blinked in surprise and looked down at him curiously.

"Teela says that Kepral made the key contribution in the Battle of Argen Tor. I think it was Lord Tevin."

Randor looked contemplative for a moment. "You're both wrong. It was Captain Berevor. He led the Turanian advance and broke the enemy resistance." Adam shook his head. His father would know that.

He sheathed his sword and, pulling up a chair, straddled it and favored them with an interested glance. "You're studying the Pelian war?"

After a moment of surprise, Teela eagerly started peppering him with questions. Adam stared at her with a look of betrayal. How could she encourage his father to tell war stories? And not just any war stories, but really old war stories!

Within ten minutes Adam had forgotten his dismay in his fascination.

* * *

Evil-Lyn looked into the cell that held Tri-Klops in amusement. He looked at her in surprise, then flung an energy beam at her. It bounced off the air between two of the bars and hit him in the face. He fell to his knees and growled, "Aah! Force field!"

Evil-Lyn cackled. "Oh, Tri-Klops, that was priceless, do it again! Do it again!"

He looked at her suspiciously. "Who are you?" he asked.

She gave him a slow, crooked smile. "Who do you think?" she asked archly, fluffing Lady Asala's soft hair.

"Evil-Lyn?" he said incredulously.

"I have to thank you for opening the way for me. And just to repay you for your help, I think I'll let you out."

"How considerate," he said.

She sent a small spike of power into the lock and it clicked open. "Merman's already made his attempt and failed, so don't feel too alone. Though he, of course didn't get captured. And here I always thought that you were smarter than him."

Once he was clear of the door, he sent another blast at her. With a small gesture, she created a flash of purple energy that deflected the bolt back at him. He fell back to his knees.

"Ooh! Force field!" she cried with a grin. "I'm doing you a favor. Now you have another chance! I'd run along if I were you. I've got the guards seeing and hearing no evil for the moment, but it won't last forever." Laughing, she walked off, leaving him cursing on his knees.

* * *

"Well," Randor said, getting up. "I think that's enough for today. Adam's beginning to look a little glazed."

Adam smiled at his father. "Adam's beginning to feel a little glazed," he admitted. Randor reached out toward him, and Adam hunched. "Not the hair," he said. Teela giggled.

Randor laughed and squeezed his shoulder. "Sorry, son. Sometimes I forget what it's like to be sixteen." Then he gave Teela a nod and turned toward the door. "I'll be back in a couple of hours," he said. "At bedtime."

He opened the door, and, gasping, slammed it shut again. It burst inward in a flurry of wooden shards to reveal Tri-Klops glaring in. Another bolt from his yellow eye sent Randor flying backwards. The king screamed once as he fell and hit the floor with a resounding thud.

* * *

_Tuned up 02/02/09 with help from Delora2047_


	4. Chapter 4

**Chapter 4**

Adam cried out and flung himself at his unmoving father. Yelling for the masters, Teela drew her cobra staff and leapt to engage Tri-Klops.

Pain blossomed from Adam's foot and thigh as he landed, but he paid it no attention, focused instead on his father's face. The king was still breathing. Adam heaved a great sigh of relief and looked around for his sword. Blast! It was on the other side of the bed, well out of reach. He snatched up his father's sword and wrenched around to face the door, grimacing as tendrils of agony climbed up from his foot and down from his thigh to meet in an aching mass near the break in his calf. There would be a price to pay when this was over . . . if he lived long enough. Adam ducked as Teela soared over his head and winced as she thumped sickeningly into the wall.

The prince turned back toward the minion, raised his father's sword and aimed a desperate blow at him. If only he could delay the villain until help arrived. . .

Tri-Klops raised his own blade and blocked the reckless swing easily, jolting Adam's arm up to the shoulder and sending the weapon tumbling from his grasp. Gulping, Adam gazed up in trepidation at Tri-Klops looming over him, a malevolent grin on his face. "The king and the prince at one stroke!" he gloated, taking aim with his red eye. Adam shielded his father as best he could and steeled himself for the blow to fall.

Stratos streaked in through the window in a blur of feathers and knocked Tri-Klops back out into the hall. The bolt from his eye went wild; plaster rained down on Adam and his father. Mekanek and Ram-Man arrived in the hallway and helped Stratos immobilize Tri-Klops just as Man-at-Arms came cannoning around the doorframe and stopped so short that he nearly fell backwards. His mouth shaped Adam's name. His eyes widened as he took in the full drama of the scene, and Adam wasn't sure to which of his three fallen charges he was going to run. After a moment of tormented indecision, he ran to Teela's side.

With the crisis apparently over, Adam's adrenaline bottomed out abruptly. His world narrowed down to the screaming pain in his leg. His father shifted underneath him. "Adam, what happened?" he asked weakly.

The sudden movement changed the position of Adam's leg and he let out an involuntary howl. Frantic, he struggled to a sitting position to try and see what more had gone wrong with it. A jagged splinter of wood the size of his father's wrist jutted out from his lower thigh. Blood oozed up around it. Adam stared at it, horror-struck. "Get it out, get it out, get it out!" he cried.

Randor reached out a hand toward it, but his fingers had barely brushed the offending object when Adam realized that it was a very bad idea. "Don't touch it, don't, don't, don't!!!" he shrieked. His father froze, then slid out from under him. Adam gritted his teeth to keep from making any more noise than he could help.

Marlena and a healer arrived almost together. His mother stopped dead upon seeing the condition of her husband and son. Adam closed his eyes against the appalled expression on her face. He wished that he could pass out, but the torment from his leg just went on and on. Mewing pathetically, Cringer crept out from under the bed and licked his hand, trying to comfort him.

The healer forced his mouth open and made him swallow a bitter drink. Adam sank gratefully into the oblivion it brought.

* * *

This was getting old, Adam thought as he regained consciousness to the sound of his father snapping orders to Man-at-Arms. If he kept getting injured, he'd never be allowed out of bed till he was fifty!

He opened his eyes and looked around apprehensively. He half-expected to find his room turned into a barracks with beds stacked all around for the masters.

Adam jumped as his father suddenly came up beside him, seeing that he was awake. "Adam, are you all right?"

His gut was queasy and his eyes hurt, but he didn't think he'd tell his father that. The last thing he needed was more fussing. "How's Teela?" he asked.

"Fine," his father said.

"Furious," said Healer Dorgan at almost the same moment.

Man-at-Arms added, "She's down in the dungeons making doubly sure that Tri-Klops won't get out again."

"So she's not hurt?" he asked. "She hit the wall so hard. . ."

"What did happen?" Man-at-Arms asked. "Teela said all she saw was Tri-Klops. She had no idea how you wound up on the floor."

Adam opened his mouth, then closed it. "It happened so fast," he said. They waited for him to go on. His mother was sitting in a chair next to the bed, caressing Cringer's head reassuringly. The big cat would probably have been happier up on the bed with him, but with the cast there wasn't really space. Adam squinted his eyes shut tightly, willing the gritty feeling to go away. The expectant silence dragged on. He sighed, and said, "Tri-Klops destroyed the door, then smashed Dad to the floor." Randor's face twitched - was it embarrassment? "Teela ran across to face off with him, and I - just - I-" He looked helplessly into his father's face. "You weren't moving."

"So?" Duncan asked, almost sounding impatient. "Then what happened?"

Adam shrugged, not taking his gaze away from his father's face. "I couldn't even tell if you were alive. I - I - I threw myself at you, to see if you were okay, to see if you needed help." They all stared at him in something akin to shock. "Then he knocked Teela into the wall and Tri-Klops focused back on us. You were helpless." Adam shook his head. "I tried to use your sword, but he knocked it out of my hands. I couldn't let him hurt you -"

"So you put yourself in front of me?" Randor demanded. "Adam, what were you thinking?" The frustration and irritation in his father's face made something in Adam just snap.

"What was I supposed to do? Just watch while he killed you?" Adam glared at his father. "Then wait for him to kill me?"

Randor's head went back like he'd been slapped. "Well, I - you - Adam, still. Didn't you stop to think for a moment?" Adam closed his eyes. The last time he hadn't thrown himself straight into an attack, his father had lit into him. Wasn't there anything he could do that was right? "It was terribly risky," Randor complained.

"And damaging," came Healer Dorgan's disapproving voice. "Am I going to have to tie you to your bed, scamp?"

"How bad is it now?" Randor asked, brows furrowed worriedly.

"Well, apart from the laceration from the shard of wood -"

"That had to have happened before I threw myself at Dad, when the door exploded."

"Exploded?" Marlena asked softly, drawing all their attention. Her usually calm face was white and tense. Adam nodded mutely. His mother straightened her shoulders and gave his father a level look. "Randor, something has to be done about this."

"Yes, Marlena," he agreed instantly. No one argued with his mother when she looked like that. "I'm going down now to have a little chat with Tri-Klops." Marlena nodded sharply, then returned her attention to Adam.

Adam's brows knit as his father left the room. "Shouldn't somebody go with him?" he asked plaintively.

Man-at-Arms pointed at two guards. "You and you, go with him. And Stratos." The grim-faced Avion warrior nodded and followed the king out. Adam was marginally reassured by this show of force.

"Now, young man," Healer Dorgan said. "Much as I understand - and sympathize with - your desire to protect your father, you really must stay in bed if you want to heal properly. You have added another fracture to your tally."

"What?" Adam looked down at the fresh cast on his leg in dismay. It seemed longer, somehow.

"When you landed, you snapped two of the bones in your foot, and this necessitated removing the cast to make sure the break in your lower leg hadn't shifted too much." Dorgan shook his head in apparent disgust. "Furthermore, you now have stitches in your thigh. Don't tear those, if you please." Adam nodded faintly. A broken foot? He really wasn't getting out of bed till he was fifty.

"How bad is it?" he asked.

"Bad enough," the healer said sourly. "You jarred all of the muscles up and down your leg, and foot injuries are nothing to laugh at. How much pain are you in?"

Adam was opening his mouth to answer when his father thrust aside the workman who was hanging a new door and flung himself into the room. He looked wildly around, breath coming in harsh gasps as though he'd been running. Adam's gut quailed. What now?

"Randor, what is it?" Marlena asked.

"Tri-Klops, he's escaped."

"What?" Marlena's eyes snapped with fury. "How?"

"I'm not sure - I came straight here - I thought -"

"Where's Teela?" Man-at-Arms asked worriedly. Randor looked blank for a moment. Adam's heart lurched. Was she -

"I left her with the healers," the king said, "but I'm sure she's just asleep." Asleep? Man-at-Arms didn't look reassured. Randor shook his head, a trace of irony entering his expression. "She was snoring."

"Oh." Man-at-Arms closed his eyes and breathed deeply. Opening them again, he said, "I'll marshal a search." He left the room with a determined stride.

Adam looked around at the adults in the room. If this kept going much longer, they'd all be worn to a frazzle, and then what if Skeletor attacked?

* * *

Evil-Lyn hid her smile behind a hand, watching the flurry of activity. Such little acts caused so much enjoyment. And the scenery wasn't bad either, she contemplated, watching Man-at-Arms parade by, trailed by a host of equally eye-catching guards. The scenery at Snake Mountain wasn't nearly so pleasant.

All of the guards and the masters were turning the palace upside-down looking for Tri-Klops. The memory of that individual's face as she bespelled him and sent him back to Snake Mountain was one she'd treasure. He'd had his two chances, after all.

The little red joke of a magician zoomed past her, calling out to anyone who was listening that Tri-Klops wasn't in the throne room. Evil-Lyn stiffened as he went by. That obnoxious alien was the only one with any chance of seeing through the transformation, but he was too busy babbling to even notice her.

And now the Eternians were in chaos, searching for someone who wasn't even here. If she laughed, would the other courtiers take it for hysteria? Better not to risk it. She withdrew from the public parts of the palace.

Beastman was pacing in Lady Asala's room. The poor maid would be horrified to see the way he strode in her skirts. "When are we going to move?" he demanded when she entered the room.

"Give it a little more time, Furball," she said. "Let them wear themselves out some more."

"The longer we wait, the more likely it is that one of the others will beat us to the prince."

"Oh, yes, that's very likely, isn't it," she said disparagingly. She sat down at the table, contemplating the situation. "Though Tri-Klops got quite close, indeed."

"You see!" he said savagely, leaning across the table at her. "If one of the others cuts us out, I'll-"

"The time isn't right," she said with a quelling tone in her voice. "I've already taken the first step in implementing my plan."

"Our plan," he corrected.

"All right, then," she sighed, rolling her eyes. "Our plan."

"What did you do?" he demanded.

"When I went down to free Tri-Klops -"

"Again! You fool!" He launched himself across the table at her. She stood up smoothly and let him slide across the table onto the floor.

"I sent him back to Snake Mountain this time, wrapped up in ribbons." She glanced back at him over her shoulder. "I'd be interested to know how long Skeletor leaves him tangled up in them." He glared up at her, but didn't speak again. "Do you want to know what I did, or don't you?" She took his silence for assent. "When I went down there, that orange-haired wench was quizzing the guards on their jobs and generally making herself unbearable."

"What's that got to do with anything?"

"Didn't I tell you that she was the centerpiece of my plan?" Evil-Lyn inquired sweetly.

"I thought -"

"Now that's a first. Quiet, fuzzy, or I won't tell you." He subsided, grumbling. Evil-Lyn smiled. "Don't you think it would be particularly amusing if she were to help us sneak the prince out of his room?"

"Oh, yeah, like that's gonna happen," Beastman growled in an alto voice, rolling his eyes.

With a grand flourish, Evil-Lyn drew out the Andralo crystal, a little treasure she'd been saving for just such a purpose. Beastman's eyes were instantly transfixed by the faintly glowing blue gem. She chuckled richly. "Down in the dungeon, I put that wretched girl into a deep sleep - and caught her will fast within this stone." Beastman's eyes widened. "Now all I have to do is beckon and she'll come to my calling." Her chuckle deepened. "And do my bidding."

His laugh joined hers, but he cut himself short, looking out the window. "That'll do us no good whatever if Whiplash gets to the target first."

Evil-Lyn started to speak, but checked herself. "Why so specific?" she asked, moving to peer out the window over Beastman's head. She croggled at the bizarre sight of Whiplash, crouched low in the twilight, slipping for bush to bush in the palace garden. He'd put something on his skin to help him blend in more thoroughly. Recovering her composure, she tapped Beastman on the shoulder. "There is a simple solution you could apply if you wanted to," she murmured in his ear. He looked up at her suspiciously. "Well, you look like a pretty girl. What do pretty girls usually do when they see you?"

Beastman raised one heavy brow at her. "They scream," he said, clearly not sure what she was getting at.

"So scream, fool! Send up the alarm." His outraged glare caused her to break out in peals of laughter.

* * *

_Tuned up 02/02/09 with help from Delor2047_


	5. Chapter 5

_I should take this opportunity to thank my beta reader, CatslynW. She has had a great deal of influence on the final form this story took. She sat next to me, often reading over my shoulder as I typed, and saying things like "How is Randor reacting to this?" and "Where's Cringer? You forgot Cringer again!" And she's the reason I'm writing fan fiction at all, since, after I repeatedly said I wasn't interested, she basically dared me to by saying that I couldn't come up with any decent ideas anyway. This is the story that came out of that._

* * *

**Chapter 5**

The next attack on the castle's environs was routed before Adam or his father could do much more than look up. Adam's mother had dinner served for the three of them in Adam's room, and they were eating when a hoarse cry rent the air. Randor leapt up from the table, turned toward the door - and stopped. Adam could see that he didn't want to leave his queen and his heir alone in the room under these circumstances.

He went to the newly hung door and ordered the two guards on duty outside it into the room, then left at a run. Adam's heart sank, watching him go out of sight.

His mother put a hand on his and squeezed. He tried to smile at her, but he knew it wasn't a convincing effort. With her in the room, not to mention the two guards, he could hardly become He-Man and rush off to protect his father, so he lay back in his bed, ignoring his food, till his father returned.

Marlena leaned forward as he entered the room. "What happened, Randor, did Tri-Klops attack someone?"

Randor's face was a study in impotent fury. "No," he said disgustedly. "Lady Asala's maid caught sight of Whiplash creeping through the garden and screamed. That treacherous Caligar fled before the guards could catch him."

"But is he gone?" Adam asked.

"Oh, yes. The masters gave chase." Randor slammed his fist down on the table. "What are they playing at?" he demanded. "Are they testing our defenses?" His eyes grew worried. "If so, they're finding them sorely lacking."

Adam raised an eyebrow and tilted his head at his father. "You know, Father, maybe that's a plus."

"What?" Randor exclaimed, staring at him.

"What do you mean?" his mother asked him in more measured tones.

Adam looked back and forth between their faces and spoke in a small voice. "I just thought that if they show us all the holes in our defenses, it means we can," he shrugged, and made a vague pushing gesture, "you know, plug them up."

Randor opened his mouth, then closed it, looking at him thoughtfully. "That's very good thinking, Adam. As long as we manage to deflect all of the attacks," he added ruefully. "But we must finish our dinner."

All three of them spent the next half hour pushing their food around on their plates, eating little. Adam's mother nagged at them both to stop playing with their food and eat it. The second time she said this to his father, Randor responded, "I will if you will."

His mother's eyes dropped to her plate, and they sat quietly after that, waiting. Adam gradually became aware that his last dose of pain killers was wearing thin. He didn't want to take any more of the mind-numbing drugs, so he tried to ignore the pain in the hopes that his parents would forget.

It was a vain effort. Even if his parents forgot, he should have known that the healer wouldn't. Healer Dorgan came in with a draught of something that was bound to taste vile, followed shortly by Man-at-Arms, come to report on the pursuit of Whiplash.

Adam shook his head at the healer, turning to listen to Man-at-Arms' report. His father, though, held up a hand, forestalling Duncan's words. "Take your medicine, Adam," he said. Adam gave him a pleading look, but his father wasn't moved. Adam drank the bitter stuff and lay back as the servants came in and took away the dinner plates.

"We ran him off, but he went to ground and eluded us in the caves."

Randor asked a few more questions, but Adam lost track of the conversation quickly. He struggled to keep his eyes open for awhile, but when the cracks on the ceiling began to dance, he admitted defeat.

* * *

A commotion jarred him out of sleep deep in the night. It sounded like a skirmish was taking place just underneath his windows. Adam dragged himself to a sitting position, disregarding the discomfort in his leg. The drugs were doing a good job of dulling the pain, but they dulled his mind, too. He hoped that He-Man could shake the haze off more successfully.

He was straining desperately to reach his sword when something grabbed his arms and pinned him against the bed.

Alarmed, he fought back against his attacker. He heard a voice speaking urgently, but couldn't make sense of it. Whoever was holding him down could not be moved, no matter how he struggled. If only he were He-Man! Then he could break free.

Of course, if he were He-Man, he wouldn't be in bed.

The meaning of the words suddenly penetrated.

"Adam, stop struggling! Adam, it's me. Adam!"

He sagged back against his pillows. "Father?" he asked blearily.

"Yes, yes. You're all right, Adam, you're safe."

He shook his head. "Got to get my sword. Got to . . . have to fight."

"No, Adam, no." Randor was bent across him, holding him down. Adam tried to blink the film out of his eyes with no success. "Son, there are others who can fight. You must stay here, in bed."

"No, must fight. He-Man . . ."

Randor sat down on the side of the bed, still leaning on both Adam's arms. "Adam, you really must steady down. You can't keep launching yourself headlong into battles you can't win. He-Man is a great hero, but you can't take him as your example. No one can live up to his level of prowess."

Adam blinked confusedly up at his father. "But -"

"Adam, I'm quite serious -"

"Randor?" Man-at-Arms' voice came from the door. "There's no point in trying to reason with him right now. He's on medication and half-asleep." He walked over and looked down at Adam's face. "He's probably not getting one word in three. Stop him now. Lecture him later."

What was Man-at-Arms saying? Lecture never! He needed his sword. His eyes strayed to where it hung in its sheath on the bedpost.

"You're right, Duncan, but there is one more thing I can do now." He stood up and Adam lay back, gasping, too weary now to reach again for the sword. Randor took the sword and wrapped the harness around the sheath. "I'm going to take this to my room. Perhaps if it's completely out of his reach, he won't try so hard to join the fighting."

"No!" Adam cried. "Don't! I need my sword!" Randor paused at the door and looked back at him with an expression Adam was incapable of deciphering in his condition.

"I'll be back in a few minutes." Then he turned away and left the room.

"Man-at-Arms!" Adam cried desperately. "Stop him. Get my sword! Someone's attacking. . ."

"We drove off the attack, Adam. Tu-Bad will be licking his wounds for some time, I think." Adam lay back, exhausted. "It's time for injured young princes to go back to sleep."

As if Duncan's words had the power of magic, Adam's eyes clouded over again, and he fell back to sleep.

* * *

The next morning, Adam and Teela made a desultory attempt to return to their studies, but neither could concentrate. Cringer had managed to find space on Adam's bed to settle down in, and he was lucky enough to be able to sleep. Teela, who'd chased after Tu-Bad the night before, kept yawning, and Adam's mind kept wandering onto strange, drug-induced tangents. He spent a lot of time trying to decide what shape the new cracks on his ceiling formed. Was it a lopsided horse, or a cat seen from underneath? Or maybe - a knock at the door distracted him from this contemplation, and he looked over, eager for a diversion. Maybe Orko could come in and do some magic.

Teela rose and opened the door. There came a sound of feminine voices, one very quiet and sweet, and Teela's. He found himself considering the fact that he preferred the assurance in Teela's voice to the almost timid voices of some of the other ladies at court. His mother always sounded assured. . .

"Lady Asala is here to see you, Prince Adam," Teela said formally. He looked up at her face, confused. He didn't want to see any courtiers, especially not that one, but he couldn't find a way to say it that didn't sound rude.

Lady Asala came into the room, followed by another woman he recognized as her maid. What was her name? Fenella, a questing thought supplied. Lady Asala came up beside the bed and curtsied.

Cringer came awake suddenly and went into a crouch. He growled up at Lady Asala, who drew back in alarm. Startled, Adam reached down and tried to get Cringer to relax. "It's okay, boy, Teela's here, and Lady Asala is no threat."

He gazed up at the lady, who gave him a nervous smile. "I just wanted to apologize, your highness, for all the confusion I caused."

Adam sighed, hand on Cringer's back. The big cat was still very tense. "Don't worry about it," he said, trying to seem more pulled together than he really felt. "We all make mistakes."

A peculiar smile crossed the woman's face, and she glanced aside, as though to make sure that Teela had, indeed, closed the door. When the door clicked shut, she looked back down at him with that strange expression. Then she leaned close to Adam's face and said, "Some of us make more than others!" With that, she stood up sharply and flashed a blue-colored gem in Teela's face. Teela's eyes grew alarmed - but her face went totally blank.

Asala - if it was Asala - turned back to Adam. He opened his mouth to yell, to call for his guards. She made a slight gesture, and he felt his throat go numb.

Cringer made as if to leap on her, but she held out a hand, palm-first, at him and let a bolt of power fly at the cat. Cringer reared back, falling across Adam's legs, then slid off the bed headfirst. Adam started to cry out, both in pain and in concern for his pet, but his voice made no sound.

He glared up at the woman who could not be Lady Asala.

"Your harpy is immobilized, Prince Adam," she said with a caressing sound in her voice, bending to tap him gently between the eyes. "Your voice is frozen, your guards are unsuspecting, and everything is going according to my plan." Looking aside, she said, "Beastman, ready the stretcher."

* * *

_Tuned up 02/02/09 with help from Delora2047_


	6. Chapter 6

Chapter 6

  
  


Adam looked over at the maid. Beastman? What? How? His eyes snapped back to Lady Asala with a dreadful surmise. She read his glance accurately and a crooked grin spread across her face. "Yes, Prince Adam? Did you have something you wanted to ask me?"

She stood up again and turned to Teela. "You will take the other end of the stretcher, girl. And act naturally. If anyone asks you what's going on, just tell them that the king ordered you to move him. The masters -" her voice oozed sarcasm "- are all bound to be occupied shortly, when some of my comrades attack." She shot a look at Beastman. "That's when we'll move."

"Why don't we just eliminate them both, now?" he demanded with an irritable tone in his soprano voice. Adam's brain twisted, trying to wrap itself around the concept that this petite woman was really Beastman. Then the meaning of the words sank in and he looked at Teela. Her eyes were panicky, but her stance was relaxed, and her face still had a blankness to it that he found disturbing. He'd seen Teela angry, amused, worried, sad, but never just blank.

Evil-Lyn gave Beastman a contemptuous look. "Just imagine Skeletor's face when we present him with the prince to deal with himself." Adam looked back up at Lady Asala's face. Those tones were very different from the lady of the court he was familiar with. How difficult it must have been for that villainess to play the role of demure sweetness. Perhaps Man-E-Faces had a competitor in the acting department. Not that he was going to get to tell anyone about it at this rate. 

Beastman's head cocked to the side. Adam could clearly see that he was failing to imagine much of anything. 

"Get him onto the stretcher," Evil-Lyn ordered sharply. "And you, girl, put your com unit down on the dresser." Teela woodenly did as she was commanded, and Adam watched her mindless action with dismay.

Beastman walked over and put the stretcher next to Adam on the bed. With Evil-Lyn on one side and Beastman on the other, he didn't have a lot of choices, but he had to do something. 

He rolled out of the bed towards Evil-Lyn, reaching out with his arms in an attempt to knock her over. She stepped back, laughing derisively. When he landed, he discovered that silent screams aren't very satisfying. 

Beastman rolled him onto his back and wrapped a rope around his waist, tying a knot in front. Adam's left arm was trapped underneath him, but he shoved at the tiny woman that was Beastman with his right. Unfortunately, the transformation didn't appear to have affected his strength. The big shaggy mongrel slapped his hand away disdainfully and affixed each of his wrists to the band around his waist. 

Adam twisted and writhed, trying to get loose from the bonds that bit into his wrists. He hissed with pain as his movements jarred his leg. Beastman snickered abrasively and stood up. 

"Don't you think it's going to look odd for a tiny little thing like this," Beastman gestured at the girl's body he wore, "to be carrying a stretcher?"

Evil-Lyn tilted her head to the side, then nodded thoughtfully. "You're right, for once." She raised a hand and began to speak in a singsong voice. 

  
  


"Timid girl, that quakes and quivers, 

Transform now from form that shivers 

Into one who'll boldly stride

And do his deeds with manly pride."

  
  


There was a flash of light, and Beastman's form shifted to that of a good-sized man in Randor's livery. Beastman surveyed himself. "It'll do, I guess."

Her eyes narrowed. "How would you like to be an ant?"

They traded snarls, and Beastman's irritation translated into malicious roughness as he lifted Adam from the floor. Adam gasped in agony as the hybrid monster dropped him onto the stretcher. He leaned down and spoke directly into Adam's face. "Now, boy, if you do anything that draws attention to us, I guarantee your little friend there won't see another day." Adam's heart froze, and he cast a glance in Teela's direction. Her eyes seemed to be trying to say something, but he wasn't sure what. "Eh?" Beastman, said, tapping Adam's left leg. Adam hissed, and looked up into the querying face. He nodded once to show he understood.

She looked satisfied, and then went across to the window. Adam hoped desperately that someone would notice an unfamiliar face, but it seemed unlikely. He struggled futilely for a few moments, while Evil-Lyn looked on with amusement and Teela stared in horror. Suddenly, he heard cries of alarm and the sounds of fighting off toward the north wall. Beastman turned toward Evil-Lyn.

"It's time," she said. "You, snipe, pick up the foot of the stretcher." Teela, face still expressionless, but with screaming in her eyes, walked woodenly over and lifted her end of the stretcher. Adam felt himself sliding toward the other end. "Beastman, get over here!"

Beastman joined Teela in lifting the stretcher. When it was level, Evil-Lyn came over with a blanket and spread it over him. "Let's get you neatly tucked in. We wouldn't want anyone to see anything they shouldn't, would we?"

Adam stiffened and flushed with fury. He glared at Evil-Lyn. "Now, now, my prince, do try to relax. Try for a drugged stupor. It shouldn't be all that hard." With that, she walked to Teela and waved the crystal in her face again. "We're going to the eastern tower, the top room. Now, move." She opened the door and ushered them out. 

Adam looked side to side at the guards outside his bedroom door. They stared blankly forward, not seeing anything. He thought he knew now how Tri-Klops had escaped the dungeons. They passed through the halls, which were emptying rapidly of non-combatants as the sound of battle raged outside. 

A squad of the guard rounded a corner ahead of them at a trot. Adam looked up hopefully. Maybe they would realize that there was something wrong. Evil-Lyn, in her guise as Lady Asala, took a few steps forward and spoke quietly in Teela's ear. Beastman cleared his throat and Adam looked into his face, upside down due to their positions. It was slightly disorienting. "You better not do nothing stupid," he said in a husky whisper. "Or your little friend gets it, and she won't even be able to fight back."

All plans of throwing himself to the floor or trying to kick somebody left his mind at once as he considered this notion. Under Evil-Lyn's spell, Teela would just stand there while Beastman cut her to ribbons. And with Beastman wearing the king's livery, no one would realize what was happening in time to stop him.

The squad was almost upon them, now, and Adam prayed that his expression would pass for discomfort or embarrassment, or something. The sergeant in charge waved the rest of them on, and paused to keep pace with the stretcher for a moment. It was Raon. A few years older than Adam and Teela, and he'd occasionally played with them when they were children. He gave his prince an encouraging smile. "Buck up, your highness, this'll be over soon." Adam gave him an answering twist of the lips, and Raon's face softened in sympathy, and he added, "You'll be back on your feet in no time." Then he passed on with the rest of his squad. Adam squeezed his eyes shut and tried to formulate a plan. 

The situation seemed nearly hopeless.


	7. Chapter 7

Chapter 7

  
  


Teela was under Evil-Lyn's control. Adam's voice was frozen. And anyone passing would expect him to have a glum expression. He thumped his head back against the stretcher repeatedly, trying to think. Beastman cleared his throat and Adam looked up to see the minion staring suggestively at Teela's back. Adam, his gut roiling and clenching, let his head fall back again and stayed still. 

How long had Evil-Lyn and Beastman been in the palace? What were they going to do with him in the eastern tower? It made no sense. Unless . . . What if she had some spell that would take them straight to Snake Mountain? Or there were always the griffins that seemed to be on call whenever Beastman wanted them. Either way, he and Teela were in serious trouble. 

Evil-Lyn, in her guise as Lady Asala, simply walked beside the stretcher. This plan was terrifyingly perfect. His father and Man-at-Arms were undoubtedly at the walls, fighting off whoever was attacking this time. No one would even know what had happened to him until they found Lady Asala herself - and Fenella - in whatever condition they were in by now. Even then, no one would be sure until Skeletor chose to reveal his. . . his . . . Adam turned his thoughts resolutely aside.

They started up the stairs, Teela going first. Adam thought furiously. They were running out of time. At the second landing, Teela stopped dead and appeared to be fighting against whatever power Evil-Lyn had over her. ** Go Teela, ** Adam thought, but Evil-Lyn took a few steps forward and waved that blue crystal before her eyes again. "Do as I say," she murmured. "The top room, now!" Teela shuddered and began moving forward again. 

Adam stared at the witch's hand. The crystal. It was obviously the basis of her control over Teela. He had to do something or all was lost. He'd be at Snake Mountain, again. Without his sword, again. And this time the goal wasn't to lure anyone there, as far as he knew. The goal was to do away with him, which made it seem unlikely that he'd last the day. And just what were they planning to do with Teela? He took a deep breath to steady himself down. Even his thoughts were babbling.

Evil-Lyn was walking just to the right of the stretcher, the crystal in her left hand. The blanket over him fouled his legs, but there was only one thing he could do. Sweeping the blanket out of the way as best he could, he let fly a kick at Evil-Lyn's hand. The crystal went sailing and shattered with a loud concussion against the wall. 

At that moment, Teela's back stiffened. Adam's momentum had carried him halfway off the stretcher. His right leg and his hip were hanging off, but the rest of him was firmly on it. He tried to yell to Teela to let go, but his voice was still paralyzed. Teela let go anyway and turned to face their enemies. The foot of the stretcher hit the steps sharply, jarring Adam, and throwing his balance even further off. Beastman dropped his end and bent down sharply, scooping Adam up around the waist. The prince wound up doubled up over Beastman's shoulder, his head hanging down by his belt buckle. Adam was glad to know that the spikes that stuck up out of Beastman's shoulders and chest seemed to have disappeared in his transformation.

The hairy minion jumped clear of the sliding stretcher and started running up the stairs. Teela tried to block him, but he thrust her roughly aside. She grunted as she hit the wall. Adam craned around, trying to see what was going on. Evil-Lyn was nowhere in sight. She was probably already on her way ahead of them. Adam's left leg thumped agonizingly against Beastman's back with every step.

Something struck Beastman from behind, and he stumbled, his grip along Adam's back loosening. With a great backwards heave of his body, Adam thrust himself free of Beastman's hold. He flew backwards off Beastman's shoulder and fell through open air, arms bound, leg heavy and stiff with the cast. If he could have made any noise, he would have let out an embarrassingly loud and panicked scream. 

Teela threw herself at him to break his fall, and they tumbled back down the stairs together. Adam caught a glimpse as Beastman flung his hands up in disgust and turned to run up the stairs. There came the shriek of one of Beastman's griffins, and then no further sound from the tower room. They'd come to rest partially on the landing, partially on the stairs. Adam's legs were above him, but his torso was bent backwards over Teela. He craned his neck to see what state his cast and stitches were in. 

His heart sank as he gazed up at his body. His right leg lay at a very odd angle. The moment he saw the injury, waves of pain cascaded through him. "Teela?" he said weakly. He blinked - his voice worked. Perhaps Evil-Lyn had to be nearby for the spell to work. 

"Adam?" Teela exclaimed from beneath him. "Are you all right? Adam?" she demanded in a frantic voice. She dragged herself out from under him, and started to get up. When her right ankle collapsed under her weight, she caught herself against the wall. "Guards!!! Father!!!" she shrieked, her voice echoing in the stairwell. "Ram-Man!!! Stratos!!!! Somebody, help!!!"

Adam began to wish devoutly for unconsciousness as Teela started to babble. "Can you tell if they're gone? Are you hurt? I mean more hurt? You're bleeding! Not too much though - the stitches must have broken open." She paused in her prattle. "I'd better go make sure that they're gone." She extended her cobra staff and, using it for a crutch, she hobbled upstairs.

"Teela, no, they've got to be gone or they'd be down here!" Adam called, but she ignored him, passing out of sight around the corner. 

Adam lay back, breathing hard. Surely someone would be along soon. He wouldn't be lying alone on this staircase, bleeding and in agony, for too much longer.

The air beside him shimmered, and a voice spoke in his ear. "What makes you think we aren't down here?" Adam's heart skipped a beat. It was Evil-Lyn - and she looked like herself again. 

He shrank back, trying to drag himself out of her reach. 

"Teeeeelaaaa!" he yelled at the top of his lungs, his voice breaking on a high panicked note. Evil-Lyn winced back from the sound, and then he heard the blessed clatter of footsteps approaching from the floor below. Evil-Lyn reached for him again, but at that moment, Teela came canoning down the stairs. Evil-Lyn cursed and jumped to the window, leaving him behind. 

As the witch stood there, Teela closing in, footsteps drawing closer below her, Beastman rode his griffin into view and she flung herself out of the window and onto its back. They flew away as Man-at-Arms, Mekanek, Ram-Man and the king came charging up the stairs - the whole group spearheaded by Cringer. ** Cringer??! ** That had to be wrong. Adam's vision went black around the edges just as his father reached him.

"Father," he said, "it was Evil-Lyn - and -" He passed out.

  
  


***

  
  


"I told you we should have pounded him in his bedroom," Beastman said for the twenty-third time since they'd fled the environs of Eternos. Evil-Lyn glowered at him, but did not reply. She was not going to be drawn into a debate with the hairy cretin. "But noooo, you said we should take him back to Skeletor. You said he'd be pleased."

They were approaching a hill. Evil-Lyn sent out a beam of energy from her staff, causing a column of rock to rise out of the crag just in time for her to jump off the flying beast and land on it. 

"You go back to Skeletor and report failure!" she called after him as he stared over his shoulder at her in surprise. "I'm going to try again!"

  
  


***

  
  


Adam awoke to the gentle sound of his mother humming. His body felt leaden, and he didn't want to move. He considered for a moment going back to sleep, but, no. There were too many question whirling in his mind for that. He opened his eyes and turned his head. His mother sat in an armchair next to the bed, embroidering. The window behind her looked out over the plains beyond the palace and seemed quite a lot higher than his own bedroom window. Buzz-Off hovered into view briefly, peering in, then flitted off.

"Where are we?" Adam asked. 

His mother looked up from her needlework. "The west tower. We thought it wise to move you, what with all the attention you've been getting. Buzz-Off and Stratos are keeping watch outside the windows, and some of the guards are flying a regular patrol around the palace." Her eyes strayed back to the green fabric between her hands. "There's talk of sending for some more Avions and Andrenids to augment our aerial defenses."

"Oh." Abruptly, he remembered Cringer sliding off his bed. "Where's Cringer?" he asked. "Is he okay?"

"He's fine, Adam," his mother said. Putting her embroidery aside, she bent down. "Cringer, come out, Adam wants to see you." 

Slowly, Cringer crept out from under the bed. He looked very ashamed, and Adam wanted to pet him, but he wasn't in reach. "Come here, Cringer," he called, patting the side of the bed. It was a larger bed than he'd had before, he noticed. "Come up."

"Go on, Cringer," Marlena said, giving the cat a gentle shove. 

Adam cajoled the great cat up beside him and started petting him thoroughly. "Hey, it's okay, Cringer. You stood up to Evil-Lyn." An embarrassing thought struck him. "You were right in the first place, when you were growling at her as Lady Asala." He scratched Cringer under the chin. "I should have listened to you, and that might not have happened." 

"Not only that, but he's the reason your father arrived at the east tower when he did." Adam looked inquisitively her. "We gathered from Teela that Evil-Lyn knocked him out. When he woke up, he ran for your father and Man-at-Arms. It took him awhile to get their attention, but once he had it, he led them straight to you."

"How did he manage it?" Adam asked. He knew too well what his father usually thought of Cringer's behavior. 

Marlena's lips twitched. "He bit your father."

Adam stared in shock at his cat, who buried his nose in his paws. "He what?" 

"Your father decided that something serious had to have happened if Cringer was biting people, so he followed him."

"Good boy, Cringer," Adam said, rubbing both sides of his face. Cringer began to look mollified, and Adam lay back against his pillows, hand still on Cringer's head. 

"Oh, Mother, what happened to Lady Asala and Fenella?"

"They're unconscious in the infirmary. According to Orko they're under some kind of sleep spell. He's trying to figure it out." Adam's thoughts quailed away from the thought of those two poor women at Orko's mercy. Of course, they wouldn't be aware of it from the sound of things. 

"You gotta feel a little sorry for them," Teela's voice came from his other side. He turned his head to look at her. There was another bed alongside his, and Teela lay upon it, left leg propped up on pillows. The image of her ankle collapsing as she stood up on the stairs flashed through his mind.

"Don't tell me you broke your leg, too," he said.

"No, mine's just a sprain."

Dorgan's voice came from the doorway. "There's nothing 'just' about a sprain, my girl!" he said sharply. "A sprain can be far worse than a simple broken bone, and can take far longer to heal."

"See, Teela," Adam said, "I'll be out of bed before -"

"Don't count on it," snapped Dorgan. "Not one of the four separate breaks in your bones could be called simple. If you don't stay in bed this time, I will sit on you myself!"

Man-at-Arms came in behind the healer. "Now, that's hardly fair, Dorgan. It's not as though Adam volunteered to be grabbed by Beastman and Evil-Lyn." The healer snorted and walked up between the beds.

"How do you feel?" he asked the prince, first touching his forehead and then taking his pulse.

"Bruised," Adam said.

"You feel bruised?" Teela exclaimed. "You landed on me!"

"Well, you're not exactly soft!" 

"Children," Marlena said reprovingly. "Adam, you don't seem nearly so - disoriented. How's the pain?"

Adam shrugged. "I can feel it, but it's bearable."

"After you tried to get out of bed last night, Duncan insisted that Dorgan find you a medication that didn't leave you so dazed."

"Yes," Man-at-Arms said, giving Adam a look that made him wonder what he'd done or said. He dimly recalled waking up in the night. "I thought it was interfering unduly with your studies. You still have a test tomorrow on the roots of the Pelian war."

Adam and Teela glanced at each other in dismay, but then Adam said, "Where's Dad?" Teela's eyes lightened and she grinned. "Maybe, if he has time later, he could come in and tutor us some more." Man-at-Arms looked startled, but Marlena smiled.

"Randor's always been a good storyteller," she said, a laugh in her voice. "I think he could be persuaded to lend some help."

Man-at-Arms nodded thoughtfully. "I'm sure that he could. Now, I'd like to get an idea just how far along you two are in your review of the events surrounding the war. Can either of you give me an understanding of how the farmers' uprising affected the beginning of the war?"

Adam exchanged a puzzled glance with Teela. "The farmer's revolt?" he asked. "That didn't happen till nearly the end of the war, when the battles led to famine in -"

"Unless you mean the problems in Velnan," said Teela. "But that really happened enough before the war that I don't think it had any affect."

Adam nodded. "Which do you mean?" he asked Man-at-Arms. Out of the corner of his eye, he noticed that his mother was stifling a grin. Man-at-Arms was just staring at the both of them, mouth hanging slightly open.

"I think they've grasped it, Duncan," she said.

"I think you could be right." He gestured to the table between the two beds. "Go on with your studies. The king will be in later once he's made another survey of the defenses."

"Oh, is he on the walls?" Adam asked.

Man-at-Arms bit his lip, and looked oddly abstracted for a moment. "No. He's surveying the extended perimeter defenses. There is now a ring of troops a half-mile out from the walls."

Adam gaped at him. "Extended perimeter?"

"Yes. And, since you clearly don't need me to guide your studies, I'd best get on to the assignment your father has given me."

"What?" Teela asked curiously.

"I'm to devise some form of shield that will, if possible, block bolts, whether magical or mechanical in origin. Oh, and he wants me to develop some early sensors that we can place at various points between here and Snake Mountain to give us some advance warning should more attacks be launched against. us." Man-at-Arms left the room, and Adam turned slowly to his mother. 

"What else has Father been doing?"

Marlena returned to her embroidery. "He's just taking steps to make sure that the kingdom and his heir are safe from attack."

Adam sat back against his pillows. He wondered bleakly if it had been Skeletor's goal to turn Eternia into an armed camp. In a sense, he supposed it was - just on with his own guards holding the weapons. Something really had to be done about that would-be tyrant. Something less defensive, perhaps.

He looked back, startled, as Teela tapped him on the shoulder with her cobra staff. "We're supposed to be studying, fly boy," she said.

"Fly boy? What's that supposed to mean?"

"Well, you looked kind of like you were trying to fly when you pushed off from Beastman's shoulder." Adam glared and rolled his eyes at her.

"Have I thanked you yet, Teela?" Adam's mother asked suddenly.

Teela looked startled. "For what?"

"For breaking his fall. His injuries from that could have been much worse if you hadn't been there." Adam boggled at the thought of his injuries being much worse than they already were. But it was just wrong to think of Teela stuck in bed for weeks. She was gonna go stark raving nuts. On the other hand, this could get fun.

"But Queen Marlena, if I hadn't let myself get ensorcelled by Evil-Lyn, he wouldn't have been up there in the first place!"

"Don't be stupid, Teela!" Adam exclaimed. "That's just -"

"I don't think you're going to make her feel better by insulting her, Adam," his mother said reproachfully. Adam scowled glumly. If he gave Teela a compliment, she'd just get suspicious. His mother simply did not understand their relationship. "Now, Teela," she said. "The key word there is 'ensorcelled.' You were under a spell. You couldn't have helped it."

"Yes, but he saved himself!" Teela moaned. "He saved us both. If he hadn't kicked that crystal out of Evil-Lyn's hand, who knows where we'd all be right now!"

Adam cocked his head, perplexed by this line of reasoning. "Is that a problem?" he asked. "I mean, so it was sort of a group effort. So what? If I hadn't broken the crystal, we might both be dead now. If you hadn't cushioned my fall, I might have broken my neck instead of my leg."

A gasp sounded on his other side. Adam turned to stare at his mother, who had clenched her fist in her embroidery. She pulled the needle out of her hand and stood up without looking at them. In fact, she seemed to be shielding her face somewhat. "Excuse me," she said, and slipped quickly out of the room.


	8. Chapter 8

Chapter 8

  
  


"Good going, Adam, I think she's crying." The prince stared after his mother, his stomach roiling. Cringer rubbed worriedly against his hand, and Adam stroked the green, furry head. Teela sighed. "Oh, I'm sorry; it's not your fault," she said less stridently. "I don't know how I let that witch get her hooks into me."

Adam shook his head. "No, Teela," he said firmly. "It's not your fault. It's not my fault. It's them. Skeletor and his flunkies." His hand on Cringer's head stilled, and whatever Teela saw in his face made her shiver. "One of these days, we may have to take this war to him."

"But not today," Randor said, stopping in the doorway. He scanned the room, nodding in satisfaction when Buzz-Off went past the window again. 

"Did you see Mother?" Adam asked, leaning up a bit. 

Randor's eyes softened, and he looked at Adam. "She's fine. She said she just needed a moment to herself."

They were silent for a moment, then Adam glanced sideways at Teela. Her cobra staff was near her on the bed. "Father, is Teela here as an invalid or as a guard?"

Teela huffed at the notion of herself as an invalid, but Randor raised his eyebrows. "Well, both, really."

"I am not an invalid," Teela declared, glaring at the king.

"I just noticed that she gets to keep her weapon."

Randor nodded. "True. But she's nowhere near as injured as you are, and she hasn't - yet - shown any signs of trying to overdo." Teela suddenly looked like she was anxiously calculating just how much she could do and still fall short of overdoing. "One certainly hopes," Randor added, "that the captain will remember that her duty includes keeping herself sufficiently healthy to do her job."

A polite knock sounded at the door, and Randor, looking startled, went to get it. Maybe it was one of the slew of visitors he'd been promised when all this started. So far Adam hadn't had any. Except for the Lady Asala who wasn't Lady Asala. Adam rubbed his eyes. His head hurt.

After a moment, his father stepped back and Raon entered the room. Adam sat forward, glad to see him, but before he could speak he saw the grim expression on Raon's face. "Oh, no!" he groaned. "Has something else happened?"

"No, your highness," Raon said. "All is well at this time." He came to parade rest, eyes straight ahead, expressionless. Adam had seen Duncan take that pose when he didn't want to look anyone in the eye. What was wrong? Raon's tension radiated out to fill the room. "I just came off duty, and was told that I could find the king here. I have a request, and my commander told me I had to take it up with the king."

Randor nodded at the soldier and said, "Is there something I can do for you Sergeant Raon?"

Without changing position, Raon said, "I wish to hand in my resignation, your highness. I am not worthy of the trust I bear."

"What?" Adam and Teela exclaimed together. Then Adam went on, "No, Raon, you can't!" The reason Raon had been around so much when they'd all been children was that Raon's father had been one of Captain Randor's troops before he became king. When Randor was crowned, he'd simply stayed on in the guard. He'd retired a few years back, but Adam knew how proud both he and Raon were of the beginning of what they hoped would become a family tradition, serving the kings of Eternia.

"May I ask why, Sergeant Raon, you would consider such a move at a time like this?" Randor asked, one eyebrow raising in a stern expression. Adam wondered why he seemed stern but not surprised.

Raon didn't look away from the imaginary point in the middle of the room that he was staring at. "I put Prince Adam's life in mortal danger by my negligence and inattention."

"I see." Randor put his hand on his chin and looked thoughtful.

The moment went on for longer than Adam could stand. "It's not your fault!" he cried. "I did my best not to let you know we were in trouble."

Three pairs of eyes swiveled around to face him. "You did what?" his father asked slowly. "Again, I ask, 'why?'"

Adam quailed back under the force of all those astonished eyes. "Um. . .Beastman told me he'd kill Teela if I drew attention to myself. She was totally controlled by Evil-Lyn and wouldn't have been able to fight back. She'd have just stood there while he - while he -" Adam found he couldn't go on, couldn't describe the horrors he'd imagined. His father looked sick. Raon, appalled, glanced at Teela. 

Teela bristled. "You should have done anything you could to let Raon know what was going on!" she burst out. "You shouldn't have been thinking about protecting me. It's my job to protect you!"

"I couldn't get you killed!" Adam blurted. "If Beastman had - had - I'd never have forgiven myself! Besides, what could I have said to your dad?" Teela just glared at him, and Adam glared back.

Randor cleared his throat, reminding them that they weren't alone in the room. "I see. I think I understand your reaction, Adam." Teela looked irritable at that. "Now, Sergeant, I'm afraid I cannot accept your resignation." Raon made to argue, but Randor raised a hand. "No, Sergeant. Your argument appears to be that you should have guessed what was going on. Perhaps so. That lies in the area of judgment. I have always had good reports of you. Your superiors think well of you, of your skills and abilities and your good judgment." He put a hand on Raon's shoulder. "It's all right, young man. We all make mistakes. The trick is in learning from them. Do you understand?"

Raon nodded. "Yes, sire, I think so."

"Good. Now, you said you were off duty?" Raon nodded again. "Then go back to your barracks and get some rest. And stop beating yourself up about this. During this crisis, I need all of you at your peak."

Raon saluted, turned on his heel and left the room. Before he went, he paused a little, and looked back at Adam over his shoulder. Adam smiled and gave him a wave. Then he left, shutting the door behind him. There was silence for a moment. Randor stared after the soldier, apparently lost in thought. Teela glared at Adam and took a deep breath.

"Now, Adam," his father said unexpectedly, turning back from the door. "I have to agree with Teela." Teela closed her mouth and gave a sharp, surprised nod, pleased to be vindicated.

"What?" Adam cried. "I can't - I couldn't -"

Randor raised a hand, cutting him off in mid-sentence. "This is something it took me awhile to realize when I became king, and it's something you will have to come to understand." He walked over and knelt by Adam's bedside. Worried eyes met Adam's recalcitrant ones. "You are not just Adam, my son and Teela's friend. You are the crown prince of Eternia, the only prince of Eternia. Your life is not your own, and never has been." Adam blinked, a little shocked. "You have a duty, a responsibility to survive. Teela's job is to help you do that. You mustn't make that more difficult by trying to protect her."

"Right!" Teela declared. "You -"

"Teela, don't rub it in. It's neither an easy nor a pleasant realization that you may have to let good, dear friends die so that you can survive." 

Teela fell silent, her eyes wide. After a moment, she said, "I hadn't thought about it like that."

"It was your father who brought that point home to me, some years back, but that's a long story, and neither here nor there at the moment." Randor fell silent again, obviously remembering that time. Adam wasn't sure who he could ask about it. Duncan probably wouldn't tell him, and it didn't look like his father wanted to talk about it. Maybe his mother would know.

For now, though he had to change the subject. Things were being too stressful, and he didn't want to think about what his father had just said. 

"Um," he said. His father looked down at him, attention pulled back to the present. "We were wondering if you'd help us study up for our test on the Pelian war." 

Randor eyes lit up and he nodded. "Of course, Adam. Once I've had a chance to evaluate the new defenses we've put on the palace walls." He reached down to pat Adam's knee, but thought better of it, though not before Adam tried to jerk his leg out of the way. Adam grunted in pain, and his father, clearing his throat, looked embarrassed.

"You really shouldn't do that," Teela said irritably.

"Thank you, Teela," said father and son together, though Adam's voice was louder, and heavier on the sarcasm. Teela sat back, looking slightly cowed by the united front of royal displeasure.

"What on earth did Teela do to merit this level of annoyance?" Marlena asked as she reentered the room.

Randor started and looked guilty. "Oh, it was nothing, dear. I just - it was nothing." Marlena continued to look askance at him, and Randor reddened. Adam watched in astonishment. He hadn't really known that his father could blush. "Well, I'd best be going out to check on the new system." 

As Randor went toward the door, Adam found himself really wishing that his father wouldn't go out again. He hadn't liked it when his mother had left the room, and, now that she had settled back down beside the bed, he'd just like to have both of them in sight for awhile. A good, long while. He grimaced. Unhinged paranoia appeared to be contagious. Before his father could leave, he said, "Who was in charge of instituting the changes, Father?" 

"Duncan." 

"Well, then they've gotta be fine. You could just stay," he wheedled.

Randor opened his mouth, but something in Adam's expression must have hit a nerve. "Alright, son, I'll stay." He took off his cloak and hung in on a hook by the door, pulled a chair up between their beds, and leaned forward. The king fondled Cringer's head and said, "Now, what books are you using?"

Adam picked up the book Man-at-Arms had given them as their central reference on the conflict. "Here, Father, this -"

"This?" Randor exclaimed. "No wonder you two were so far off in your evaluations the other day. This book barely acknowledges the contributions of - it totally disregards - I have better books in my office." He stood up again. "I'll just go and get them."

Adam glanced over at his mother in supplication. "Randor, for heaven's sake, you're a king. Send someone." Adam's eyes widened, taken slightly aback, but he heard Teela stifle a laugh. Randor looked down at Marlena, and some kind of unspoken communication seemed to pass between them, for he nodded and, stepping to the door he called a servant.

Then he returned to the chair and picked up the book Man-at-Arms had given them. "Where did you get this book? Teela, did you find it in the library?"

Teela shook her head wordlessly, looking as though she didn't want to answer that question. Adam shrugged, and said, "Man-at-Arms gave it to us. He said it was a fairly definitive work on the subject."

"Definitive?" Randor demanded incredulously. "Definitive? Drivel! I knew Duncan and I had different opinions about Berevor, but . . . definitive?" Randor shook his head. "Well, I can see that I'm going to have to ascertain just how far off base this book has taken the two of you." He was quizzing them on the events that lead up to the first serious battle when the servant returned with a small chest. The king thanked him and placed the chest on the table between the two beds. Adam and Teela looked on curiously.

"These are the diaries of Elegius."

"General Elegius?" Adam asked in awed surprise.

"None other."

"Wow," Teela murmured, watching as Randor opened the chest and extracted three volumes.

"I believe. . ." he flipped gently through the books. . . "yes, these chronicle the first years of the Pelian war." He handed each of them one of the tattered manuscripts. "You'll have to skim a bit occasionally - there is a fair amount about his personal life in these. But it gives you a really good feeling for what those days were actually like."

Adam and Teela started reading eagerly, though it was tough going. "He sure had bad handwriting," Teela commented after awhile. "I hope he had a secretary for writing orders."

"I imagine his commanders got used to puzzling it out," Randor said.

"Hey, Teela, according to Elegius, . . ."

It took awhile for Adam to realize that he was actually enjoying his studies. Of course, part of that might have been Elegius' slightly sardonic take on the world around him. And the surprising discovery that his father was actually interesting to listen to on the subject. 

Randor took the books away when their lunch trays came, and they discussed what they'd read while they ate. When they'd finished eating and their hands were clean, they swapped books and kept reading until Adam's eyes gave out. The medications were still making his eyes sensitive to light. He finally had to lay back and rest for awhile. Cringer put his head on his chest. He listened to his father and Teela discuss aspects of some of the smaller skirmishes. He and his mother added observations periodically, but Teela and Randor did most of the talking. Adam found it pleasant, but he felt that something was missing.

When Man-at-Arms came in at dinner time, he realized what it was. He wanted all his closest family and friends nearby, in sight. "Where's Orko?" he asked suddenly.

"Still working on that spell," Man-at-Arms said. "He told the infirmarian that he might not move for awhile because he was going into a trance to 'evaluate the pernicious enchantment.' At least he's not turning them into flowerpots or mice or something." He gave them a dry look. "In the meantime, the medics are keeping the two women alive with nutrient replacements."

Adam and Teela exchanged a look. Once when a particularly nasty strain of the flu went around Eternos, they'd both had to drink the stuff Dorgan called "nutrient replacement." Everyone else just called it glop.

"So do you know how long it's going to take?" Adam asked. "I mean, how long is Orko going to be floating in a trance in the infirmary?"

"Oddly, that's just what the infirmarian asked me today," Duncan said. "Unfortunately, there's no way to tell, and Orko didn't say."

Adam wished that Orko was there, but with everyone else present and accounted for, he could relax more readily. After dinner, the discussion took up again. Adam listened to his father and Man-at-Arms argue their points. Teela kept trying to add her voice to one or the other side, but, once they'd really gotten going, they didn't really seem to notice when she spoke. 

Finally, she fell back against her pillows, looking frustrated. Adam caught her eye and shrugged. In an undertone, he said, "Just enjoy the show. I mean, it's really different when I actually know what they're talking about."

"Adam, you shouldn't be sarcastic about your father and Man-at-Arms," his mother said to him quietly.

Adam shook his head. "It's not sarcasm, Mother. Their arguments are amazing. Listen to them! They're so specific and - and - and eloquent. Very much to the point. It's good training."

"Good training?"

"Well, it beats throwing rude names and meaningless insults back and forth, like Teela and I do most of the time." Teela snorted in derision, but his mother nodded thoughtfully.

Randor suddenly raised his voice. "You're a fool if you think Berevor's contribution was minimal. Without his influence, the Turanians would not have come in when they did. Elegius -"

"Nonsense," snapped Duncan. "Elegius had a hero complex about Berevor - and he didn't like having to work with Kepral. Who could blame him? But you - you have a complex about Elegius. You just take everything he says at face value, and I simply don't think his evaluations of Berevor are reliable."

Marlena nodded ironically. "I'm not sure that meaningful insults are any better," she remarked wryly. "Boys!" she called. Randor and Duncan looked up in surprise. "I think it's time for the children to get some sleep, so if the two of you are determined to stay here tonight, you'd better find some other way to occupy your time."

"Children?" protested Adam. "Sure, I'll sleep, but I'm not a child."

"I'm not at all sleepy, your highness!" Teela exclaimed.

"That's enough. You two," she snapped at her husband and his friend. "Get your cots made up."

Randor's confusion was comical. "But, my dear, I thought, when you made a bed on the couch -" He gestured toward the piece of furniture under the window where blankets and pillows were laid out neatly.

"That's for me."

Randor blinked. "Oh."

The men busied themselves with cots, and Adam watched, bemused. Then, suddenly he wasn't quite so amused. One blast of energy and the entire royal family and the leaders of the defenders of Eternia would be dead. Once the thought had occurred to him, it was impossible to banish, but he didn't want to say anything that might alarm his parents. 

"Adam?" Teela asked, leaning towards him. "Are you okay?"

"I'm fine," he said, but she didn't wait for his response.

"Father!" she called. "Your highnesses! I think Adam's in pain."

"No!" Adam exclaimed in alarm as his parents and Man-at-Arms crowded around his bed. Cringer rubbed his hand and looked up into his eyes with concern. "I'm not. I'm okay! Whatever they're giving me now is working just fine." He leaned past his mother and glared at Teela. "I'll get you for this!"

"What is it, then?" his father asked. 

Marlena nodded. "Yes, Adam, you had a very pained expression on your face just now."

"It's nothing. I just thought of something, and it's nothing."

His parents looked worriedly down at him, and Man-at-Arms leaned down and put a hand on his shoulder. "Now, Adam, you really must tell us if something is bothering you."

"It's nothing, really." Adam felt his voice breaking. "I was just thinking."

"Oh, well, if that's all, then, I'm sorry to have gotten everybody so . . . worked . . . up." All three adults turned and glared at her, and her voice died away as she finished her sentence.

"Teela," her father said sternly. "This is no time for levity."

"What were you thinking, Adam?"

"Nothing, really, it's not important," Adam said desperately. Man-at-Arms glanced at him and raised an inquiring eyebrow, as if to ask if it were something about He-Man. Adam shook his head and let it drop back onto his pillow. They weren't going to give up. Moving his fingers in little whorls in Cringer's fur, he said, "I was just thinking that having us all sleeping in the same room like this was kind of dangerous. You know, putting all the targets in one place." Cringer's head shot up, and he looked distinctly nervous. Adam reached out his hand and tried to comfort him as best he could, but though he got Cringer to put his head down again, the cat's eyes were enormous. 

"Oh." His father straightened up again. "I see. Well, Adam, it does make it easier to guard us if we're all together."

"Yeah," said Adam tiredly. "But it also makes it easier to aim." Randor's brow raised, but he didn't say anything. 

Man-at-Arms sighed. "I'm sure we've exhausted them quite as much as they've exhausted us. After all, there are more of us than there are of them, and we've seen them all in the last week."

"Yeah, all except Skeletor," Adam said, not thinking, not prepared for the galvanic effect it had on all three of the adults and his cat. Randor put his arms around Marlena, and Man-at-Arms walked swiftly to the window and peered out. Cringer tensed up again, then jumped down and ran under the bed. 

Teela, however, propped herself up on her elbows. "Yeah, you're right," she said thoughtfully. "I wonder what old bone-brain is planning? Maybe that's why he's been throwing all the others at our defenses, to weaken us."

"Well, but, it hasn't done that," Adam said. "We've doubled or tripled our guards, from what you've all said."

"No one said he was the brightest star in the firmament," Teela said with a wry tone. "It just didn't work out the way he expected."

"Quiet, Teela." Randor spoke softly, but with enough force that Teela bit her lip, and Adam gazed apprehensively up at his father, not sure what to expect. "You mustn't underestimate Skeletor. I don't know where we'd be now if not for He-Man."

Marlena nodded fervently, and Adam flopped his head back again. "Well, he's not likely to show up right now," he muttered.

"I know," Randor said. Adam looked up at him stunned. He knew? How did he know? What did he know? He wasn't acting like he knew his son was -! "Man-at-Arms told us about the trouble on the South Continent. We have to remember that He-Man can't always focus all his attention on us."

Marlena nodded. "And just be grateful when he does."

Randor's eyes were on an imagined, faraway view. Adam wondered what he was thinking. "I'm sure he has other responsibilities. More than we can guess, I would imagine."

Adam wasn't sure how to react to this. He shot a glare at Man-at-Arms for not telling him where "he" was, but this still left him trying to decide whether to be pleased by this admiration for He-Man or what. He sighed. "Anyway, that's all I was thinking."

Man-at-Arms was murmuring into his comlink. When he looked up, Randor raised an eyebrow at him and he nodded. "I thought I'd better suggest this potential problem to Stratos and Buzz-Off, so they could be alert to the possibility."

Randor nodded. "Do you think we ought to make another round of the castle walls?" he asked.

Adam pulled his covers up over his head and moaned. He wished Skeletor had his injuries, and was surrounded by a pack of sneaky, bony relatives ganging up on him protectively - now that was a horrible image. Skeletor with family. He suppressed the shudder this caused so that no one would pounce on him to ask him where he was hurt, what he was thinking about or if he needed any more drugs.

Marlena convinced Randor to stay, and the men finished getting their cots in order. A guard came in to report that all was well, and the adults settled down on the other side of the room. Despite her claims that she was not at all tired, Teela fell asleep almost as soon as the room quieted. Adam just lay there, staring at the ceiling. With his legs propped up like they were, he couldn't shift much to get into a more comfortable position. He was stuck flat on his back and he couldn't subdue his thoughts. Ideas, worries and frustrations just kept whirling around in his mind, never stopping long enough for him to get any coherent thinking done. He resigned himself to lying there awake all night.


	9. Chapter 9

Chapter 9

  
  


Evil-Lyn sat with the shadow of a boulder drawn about her like a cloak, observing Beastman as he scratched his head and muttered to himself. He wasn't very entertaining to watch, really, but she wanted to keep aware of what his plans were so they wouldn't tangle with hers. And so that she could take advantage of them if the opportunity presented itself. Just now, though, he was clearly preparing to sleep for the night. She tilted her head thoughtfully. Did he, like a dog, feel compelled to turn around three times before he lay down?

Among all the things about the world that she wanted to learn, this didn't even rank in the top ten thousand.

  
  


***

  
  


There were birds chirping outside. Adam opened his eyes and looked around. His mother lay on the couch under the window, reading. His father and Man-at-Arms weren't there, but there were four guards stationed around the room. Adam genuinely hoped he hadn't snored, or drooled, or any of the other myriad embarrassing things one can do while sleeping. What if he talked in his sleep? No one would believe him if he sounded like he thought he was He-Man in his dreams, but he'd get razzed endlessly about it.

Teela was still snoring lightly, a fact he stored away for later use as ammunition in their ongoing war of wits. He picked up the nearest volume of the diary of Elegius and found that there was a slip of paper tucked inside. "Dear son," it said. Adam wrinkled his brows. "We'll be back soon. The steward came to fetch me because a decision had to be made regarding that border dispute that came up just before you were injured. Keep reading. Duncan and I will quiz you later. Your loving father."

A loud rumbling startled him, and he felt himself flushing. The source was his stomach. He also had other needs that were, while less obvious, considerably more embarrassing. He got one of the guards to carry him into the bathroom, and when he got out, Teela was awake and breakfast had been served. 

By lunchtime, his father still hadn't returned. He was taking longer than Adam had expected from the note, but he didn't worry too much. There had been no sound of fighting, no hint of attack. He shied away from hoping they'd stopped, though, for fear of jinxing it.

He and Teela spent much of the morning and the early afternoon studying. There wasn't much else to do, and they were looking forward to discussing it with their fathers when they returned. The two of them had worked out a plan and were checking the facts in the Elegius diaries against Duncan's book and with several of the other histories they had, trying to figure out where they all agreed and where they didn't. Adam's mother watched bemusedly, and gave them advice when their reasoning ran aground. 

As the sun dropped lower in the sky, though, Adam started to worry. The guards had been through one shift change already, and as a new quartet came in to relieve the fellows who'd been there since noon, Adam was growing impatient. "Lieutenant," he called. The new man looked up and saluted.

"Yes, your highness?"

"Do you know where my father is?"

He nodded. "The king is in the audience chamber, meeting with petitioners. The recent - situation - has caused - um - well, the king hasn't been out of the audience chamber all day."

"Really? Not even for lunch?" Marlena asked, a dire tone in her voice. The man shook his head. "We'll just see about that." She got up and, touching Adam's shoulder in passing, went out.

Teela raised her eyebrows. "I wouldn't want to be whoever's talking to the king right now," she said with feeling. Adam nodded.

The queen came back, her errant charge in tow. Man-at-Arms trailed behind them, looking superbly amused. 

"I've been putting too many things off, Marlena." Randor sat down, looking weary. "Even in this crisis, the kingdom still needs to be run."

"The issue you were discussing with that council of farmers could have waited until later."

"They had an appointment for two days ago, Marlena, it hardly seemed fair -"

"I spoke to your secretary. He's going to do a triage of all your appointments for the next couple of weeks and reschedule anything that isn't of absolutely earth-shaking importance." Randor looked up at her as though astonished by this show of will on the part of his usually quiet little queen. He opened his mouth and she raised an eyebrow at him. He closed it again, wisely, Adam thought. "Now, you two," and she broadened her gaze to include Man-at-Arms. "Your children have been preparing their arguments for you all day, and I think they're on to something. So, you pair are going to go downstairs, get cleaned up and have our dinner sent in, and then you are going to listen to them."

Teela and Adam exchanged glances with one another. She looked as alarmed as he felt. This wasn't in the plan for the evening.

"Mom," he said a little desperately. "We don't -"

"Hush, Adam," she said softly to him. She turned back to the men. "Well, Randor? Duncan?" They both stood firmly to attention. Adam thought Man-at-Arms barely managed to keep from saluting the queen, but they both nodded. "Alright, then. Now go." With a commanding gesture she sent the king and his chief advisor off like a pair of disobedient little boys. 

Teela threw a panicked look at Adam, and they set about working hard on getting ready for this unexpected presentation.

After dinner, they put their case forth, detailing all the evidence and putting it in as logical a progression as they could. Then they sat back and awaited the reactions of their fathers. The room was silent for a long moment when they were done. Randor looked at Man-at-Arms and he gazed back.

"I've never really thought of it that way," Duncan said at last.

Randor stroked his beard. "No, I must admit, I hadn't either." 

Adam and Teela waited for a stronger, clearer reaction, but none was forthcoming.

Finally, Adam said, "Well? Do you agree? Disagree? Think we're going off on an irrelevant tangent? What?"

His father shook his head, his eyes focused on some far distant point. "I'm going to have to take some time to digest this, and look over your evidence. It's just such a new idea." Man-at-Arms just nodded.

"Well, we're not completely done with the analysis yet," Teela said, eagerly. "We started out just going through the books trying to make up a time line, but Adam said that he thought he saw a pattern. I thought he was nuts at first, but once we really started looking at it, it seemed obvious."

Adam found himself the focus of two pairs of eyes. He squirmed under their concerted attention, and tried to think of something to say. 

"Adam," his father said slowly. "Adam recognized the pattern?"

Teela nodded. "Well, yeah. I guess he's smarter than he looks." Adam and Teela shared non-smiles, and Adam looked back up at his father, who was still staring at him as though he'd grown a second head. 

"Well," said Man-at-Arms, rubbing his hands together. "You two had better continue your analysis. I'd be interested to see how it pans out."

Randor nodded slowly, a smile spreading across his face as he gazed at Adam. "Yes, I would, too. You know, I've got a couple more books that you might find useful in a historical survey like this. I'll have them sent up."

Adam found himself once more confused by how to react to his father's approbation. He was thrilled to have his father so happy with him, but more books? Man-at-Arms would probably tell him that he had to take the good with the bad. He decided to go with the good, for now, and grinned happily up at his father. His mother walked up and kissed her husband on the cheek. 

"Now, I think it's time for some rest from military history," she said. "They've been at it all day. Perhaps a game?"

They whiled away the rest of the evening playing poker, with Adam taking three hands out of five. He was delighted to find that his poker face had improved. That feeling only got better when he observed the disgusted looks that Man-At-Arms, who had lost every hand, kept throwing at him.

  
  


***

  
  


Evil-Lyn had made a discovery. An earth-shattering, mind-boggling discovery. She wasn't sure who she could reasonably share it with, but it was truly stunning.

Beastman actually could think. It just took him all day and part of the night. She'd left his camp around midmorning to set her plan in motion, and had returned midafternoon to find that he hadn't moved much since she'd left. Wrapping herself again in shadow, she sat down against the boulder. There wasn't anything more she could do to further her plan, so she might as well keep an eye on the oaf so she could guarantee he wouldn't get in her way. 

He was just sitting, staring into the middle distance. Evil-Lyn pulled out the polished mirror she'd anchored the spell to and gazed into it. Such a small creature, so deadly a venom, and it was one that, by an accident of nature, Beastman couldn't control, which guaranteed that he couldn't seek to take credit for her actions. It might take a few days for her little pet to arrive at the royal palace, but unlike Skeletor or the rest of his crowd, patience was one of her few virtues.

  
  


***

  
  


The next morning, Teela and Adam dove into their books headfirst and kept working on Adam's hypothesis. By noon, though, Teela's attention was flagging. Adam looked up when the food was brought in for lunch with mild dismay at the interruption. Teela said, "Finally! This day is passing like a state dinner."

Adam looked askance at her. Then he shrugged. "Nah," he drawled. She looked up, tilting an annoyed eyebrow. "Not enough forks."

Teela let out an exasperated sigh. "I'm going to get flabby and weak if I stay in this bed for days on end. I've got to get up!"

For the better part of the afternoon, Teela groused on and on. Adam sympathized at first, but gradually he got more and more irritated by her continual moaning. He wished that, like his mother did after lunch, he could leave the room. 

When Dorgan came in about an hour before dinner, Adam said, "Please, Dorgan. Please! Is there some way that you can get Teela up and moving about?"

Dorgan looked at him in mild surprise, and Teela looked annoyed. "What do you mean, Prince Adam?" the healer asked.

"If she doesn't get some exercise soon, I'm gonna go stir crazy."

Dorgan gave him an odd look. "Don't you mean, if you don't get exercise you're going to go stir crazy? Or that she'll go stir -"

"No, I meant what I said. She's driving me nuts!"

"Well, that's gratitude for you!" Teela exclaimed.

"What do you mean, gratitude?" Adam demanded. 

Teela blinked and looked stricken. "You're right, I'm sorry, Adam. I wasn't any help this last -"

"Dorgan, please! Get her up and out of here before I go stark, raving bonkers!"

Teela gave an offended snort, then turned a hopeful eye on the healer. Dorgan just looked amused. Adam didn't care how much he amused him or offended her, he just wanted a little peace.

"I'll arrange for Captain Teela to have some physical therapy tomorrow. In the morning. Will that do, your highness?" 

Adam sighed. "I think so."

"Good." Dorgan leaned over him. "Perhaps now I can perform my examination uninterrupted, young man." Adam lay back and let Dorgan look him over, trying not to feel like a beef steak of questionable quality. Eventually, Dorgan sat back and gave him a moderately pleased look. "You're healing far better than we had any reason to hope." 

Adam smiled in relief. "Does that mean I'll get out of bed sooner?"

"Don't jump ahead, boy! All it means is that I see no complications, you have no infections and your fever isn't overly high. Let's just say, this means you might not have to spend any extra time in bed."

"Oh." Adam's relief deflated. "But I'm okay?" he asked.

"Don't worry, boy, you're going to be fine."

Dorgan did a quick check of Teela, pronounced her quite ready for physical therapy the next day and left. Teela looked at Adam and said, "You want me 'up and out of here?' your highness?"

Adam rolled his eyes. "You've been grumping all day about wanting up. I thought you'd be pleased if I could arrange it."

"I'm supposed to stay with you. For physical therapy, I'd have to go to the infirmary." 

"I'm sure Father and Man-at-Arms will want you to get back in shape as soon as possible so you can protect me more fully. They'll undoubtedly give the 'short straw' to someone else for a little while." 

Teela gave him an irritated glare, but didn't say anything.

Their parents came in a few moments later and they all ate a quiet dinner together. Randor asked about their progress, but Adam said, "We're not ready to report, yet, Father. We need some more research time, I think." 

"You're doing extremely well at this, my boy," Randor said after a moment. "I've been thinking about it off and on all day, and I must say, it's an extremely recondite piece of thinking."

Adam looked up at his father, unsure. "I think I'd like that compliment better if I knew what recondite meant."

Randor tilted his head and raised an eyebrow. "I'll send up a dictionary in the morning. But don't worry, I'll write the word down tonight."

Adam huffed resignedly. "Thanks, Dad."

  
  


***

  
  


"NO!!!! Adam!!!!!" 

Adam sat up, and let out a cry as his legs protested the sudden movement. "What? What?" he demanded, still muzzy from sleep.

Something yowled, and then a heavy weight landed across Adam's legs. He cried out again as the mass jarred him. It was a person, he could feel hands plucking at the bed. "Man-at-Arms!" he hollered. 

There was a loud scrabbling sound as Cringer flung himself under Adam's bed. Something - or someone, in the dark it was impossible to tell - dragged the weight off his legs. Adam struggled to maintain his position on the bed against the pull. He heard the meaty smack of a punch, and then the two figures fell to the floor, grappling. 

Another weight hit his bed, this time missing his legs, and he felt a hand feeling around for him. He reached out and grabbed it, and its owner let out a small cry of pain at the strength of his grip. "Teela?" he whispered.

"Yes!" she hissed back. "Are you all right?"

"So far! Have you got your staff?"

"Yeah." Adam lay back, breathing hard. He hoped his father and mother were all right, and he wondered who was rolling around with the intruder on the floor. The door opened, letting in a little light, largely shielded by the guards trying to crowd in. It wasn't enough to illuminate the figures wrestling on the floor any more clearly as they rolled in and out of shadows. 

Buzz Off and Stratos came winging in through adjacent windows and dashed across the room to the struggle. They dragged both of the combatants up off the floor and held them fast. One of the guards found the power at that moment and flooded the room with light. 

Adam goggled. Stratos had a firm grip on - Man-at-Arms? Buzz Off hovered, holding the king, his feet dangling a foot of the floor. The Andrenid's eyes widened and he let go. Randor landed, knees bent and looked up at his assailant. "Buzz Off?" he murmured. 

"Who did I punch?" Man-at-Arms demanded. "Stratos, let go."

Adam realized what had happened in a rush of comprehension and put a pillow over his face. "Teela, go back to bed. I'm perfectly safe."

"I'm not so sure," Teela demurred. Adam groaned into the pillow. 

"I do not understand," the Avion said, releasing Man-at-Arms. "You were - it was -"

Randor looked around the room urgently. "Where is Adam's assailant? I was tussling with Adam's assailant!" Adam groaned again. Why was this happening to him? 

"No, you weren't!" Man-at-Arms exclaimed. "I dragged someone off Adam's legs. Who was it?"

Buzz Off's wings whined agitatedly. "But," he paused for a second, " you were fighting with the king."

"You see, Teela," he said from under his pillow. "Go back to bed. I was never in any danger."

"What?" Randor said. "No, I -" His voice faltered.

A new voice cried out in alarm. "Someone tried to smother the prince!" 

Adam flipped his arms, the pillow gripped in his hands, down to his lap and sat up slightly. "The prince is trying to smother the prince." Everyone was staring at him. He thumped his head back down on the mattress. "And he's still trying to!" He brought the pillow back over his face. 

At this point, his mother spoke up. "Thank you, Lieutenant. I think we have everything under control here." There was an odd note in her voice that Adam had difficulty identifying. It didn't sound like alarm, or annoyance. There was the sound of moving feet, and then the door closed. "Now, let me see if I understand this. I was awakened by you, Randor, calling out Adam's name in wild alarm."

"Me too," Teela chimed in from next to Adam's elbow. 

"Then, my dear, did you run over to Adam's bed?" 

There was no sound for a moment, so Adam pulled the pillow off his face again just in time to see his father nodding, brows wrinkled, looking embarrassed. Then he spoke in a very quiet voice. "I tripped over Cringer and fell onto the bed."

The queen took a deep breath, and Adam, outraged, began to suspect what she was controlling. "Alright, then you, Duncan, ran to Adam's bed and dragged what you took for an attacker off him?" Man-at-Arms nodded, but didn't speak. "So, the two of you fought on the floor, each of you thinking that you were struggling with Adam's attacker."

He was right. He was right! His mother was really trying not to laugh. His supposition was confirmed when she lost the battle. Peals of laughter rang out through the room, and Adam fell back against the bed again and covered his face with the pillow once more.

"It's not funny!" he protested as loudly as he could. "Mother! It's really not funny."

Despite the muffling effect, she apparently heard him, because she walked over and pulled the pillow out of his hands. She was still smiling, but she'd stopped actually laughing. "I'm sorry, Adam. I think it's as much relief that it turns out to be as simple as this as genuine amusement." Adam just nodded resignedly. She gave him back the pillow and he stuffed it under his head, feeling very sullen.

His mother turned to Buzz Off and Stratos. "Since we have that settled, I think that you two had better return to your patrols," she said. "I think that we can count on Randor and Duncan not to attack one another any more tonight."

Stratos nodded formally and took off. Buzz Off looked at the two humans, and, shaking his head, followed his compatriot. Adam wondered if they were going to discuss the bizarre behavior of the wingless ones as soon as they were out of earshot. And what they'd say if they did. Then he decided that he really didn't want to know. 

Marlena took a deep breath and sighed. Walking over, she took her husband's hand and guided him back to the couch where she'd been sleeping. "Now, Randor, it's just family. Why did you think Adam was being attacked?"

Adam's father sank down onto the edge of the sofa next to his wife and buried his face in his hands, wincing slightly when his hand encountered the developing bruise on his cheekbone.

"I don't really want to say, Marlena." His voice was muffled and very quiet. Adam had to strain to hear him.

"I think I can guess, my dear, but perhaps you'd better tell us. I'd rather not have anyone thinking it was a spell or something that told you to - to - well, to attack your son."

Randor's head came up like a shot and he stared at her, apparently dumbfounded. "A spell? No! No, I wasn't trying to attack Adam. I - I had a dream."

Adam eyes widened and he gazed at his father in shock. "You had a bad dream?" he asked incredulously. His father nodded, turning a brilliant shade of scarlet. Man-at-Arms rocked backward and forward on his heels, looking rather like he wished he could fall into the floor so he didn't have to witness this.

"So, everything's all right?" Teela asked. Adam glanced up at her face, and saw that she was having difficulty keeping her expression under control. The corner of her mouth kept tilting up slightly. He resisted the impulse to bury his head under his pillow again. 

"How 'bout you go back to your own bed," he muttered irritably. She gave him an amused look, and shoved herself up to a one-footed stance. Man-at-Arms muffled an oath and stepped forward to pick her up and put her to bed. 

Adam's father gulped, and said, "Yes, everything is fine. I'm sorry. I didn't mean to alarm every -" 

The door burst open and they all jumped. Cringer had just been coming out from under the bed, and at this sudden sound, he darted back into hiding.

"We found him, your highness!" Raon exclaimed as he came into the room. 

  
  



	10. Chapter 10

Chapter 10

  
  


Raon looked at them all, pleased with his news. "I don't know how you knew he was there, but we found him and we ran him off. I've organized a top to bottom search of the palace to make sure he didn't have any confederates."

Randor looked up, eyes perplexed. He wet his lips, took a deep breath, and said, "Pardon me, Sergeant, but just who have you found?"

"Whiplash, your highness. He was creeping back onto the grounds near the base of the north tower. My squad and I were just coming out of the barracks to respond to the alarm when we saw a figure dropping from the top of the wall to the ground."

"I see." Adam could see that his father was on the edge of some huge emotional expression, but he locked it down, and continued. "Thank you, Sergeant. Good work. Let -" He glanced over at Man-at-Arms, who was tucking an embarrassed-looking Teela into her bed, and revised what he had been about to say. "Let Stratos know what you find out."

Lieutenant Raon saluted his king, then nodded to Adam and left the room. 

Adam looked back over at his father, who had once more buried his face in his hands. He lay back and tried to calm his own breathing after that latest intrusion. His legs had begun to ache abominably, as though all the movement had awakened the nerves somehow. He didn't want to upset his father any further, so he tried to ignore the pain and not draw anyone's attention to himself.

"It's all right, dear," his mother said. "Everyone has nightmares." She glanced around the room. "Not usually so publicly, but the situation's unusual."

"Father," said Teela through gritted teeth. "I'm fine. Why don't you go see if Adam's okay? He's the one who had people landing on him."

Adam glared at her, as both men and his mother jumped up and rushed his bed. Within seconds, and without consulting him, they ascertained that Adam was in pain, but instead of giving him the pain medication that the healers had left for him, they sent for Healer Dorgan.

"Mother, don't wake Dorgan, I'm fine."

"We don't know that, Adam," his father said firmly. "Heaven knows what I could have damaged, landing on you like that."

"Has anyone checked on Cringer?" Adam asked. The cat still had not emerged from under the bed. "He yowled pretty loudly."

Randor was on his knees, trying to coax the big cat out from under the bed when Dorgan arrived. He glanced around the room, raised one sardonic eyebrow, and demanded, testily, to know why neither of his patients was asleep at this hour of the night.

Adam covered his head up with the pillow again as all three adults began talking at once to explain the situation. Somewhere, someone was watching, convulsed in laughter, he thought. Probably Skeletor. That thought made him groan again. 

Dorgan had never been one to hold high rank in undue esteem. In pretty short order, he sorted the king, queen and Man-at-Arms' stories out and came over to check on Adam. 

"Young man, trying as this night must have been, you really must remove the pillow from your face." 

Reluctantly, Adam lowered the pillow. Teela let out a high-pitched giggle, and he glared at her. Then he had a thought. "Teela got out of bed," he said, eyes flashing to see her response.

The outraged glare she gave him was worth it, but Healer Dorgan tutted at him. "You can hardly demand that I arrange physical therapy for her and then complain that she got out of bed." He turned to Teela. "I presume that you did not put any weight on your injured foot?" Teela shook her head virtuously. "Well, then, Adam, let's look at your legs."

"I don't think it's anything, really."

Dorgan gave him a wry look, but gave him a thorough examination. All three of the adults watched attentively. Adam felt like a sideshow attraction, but finally, Dorgan was finished. "You're quite right, it's nothing. Just unexpected and unaccustomed movement jarring awake aches and pains that had lain dormant." He opened the bottle containing the pain medication and gave Adam a small dose. "Now, go to sleep." 

Randor stood up and started to speak, and Adam noticed that his cheek had begun to swell. Dorgan held his hand up to forestall him. "You, and you," he said, pointing at the king and Duncan, follow me." He marched them out like unruly schoolboys and Adam fell asleep again before they returned.

  
  


***

  
  


Adam was granted several hours of peaceful work the next morning when Dorgan came with a pair of crutches and bore Teela away to the infirmary for her physical therapy. Apparently she had some pretty bad bruising on her back that she hadn't mentioned to him. Four guards came in to keep watch over him, but they were quiet. For awhile, his mother sat on the armchair next to his bed, sewing, but even she left around midmorning, leaving Adam alone with his silent guards. 

It was a very productive morning. He managed to settle a few of the points that had been troubling him, though he had to send for even more books to do so. His night stand was beginning to resemble a messy library table. When his mother and Teela returned just after lunch, they both gazed at it in startlement. Teela looked exhausted, and went straight to her bed. Marlena helped her get comfortable and tucked her in. For once, Teela didn't object to a little mothering. 

"What have you been doing?" Teela asked, as his mother withdrew from the room again. He wondered where she was going. 

"I managed to locate a few references that pin down precisely when Ramorgan took over Turan. It was earlier than your dad's book said, but not so early as Elegius thought." Teela perked up a little, so he grabbed the chronicle he'd badgered one of the servants into finding him. "See, here, Ramorgan's father did retire a few months before he died, but Ramorgan wasn't immediately given the post."

"That explains the inconsistencies during that stretch, doesn't it?" Teela said.

By the time his mother returned, they were once again scanning different books and noting down when and where events occurred. 

Adam looked up, yawning, when the door opened. The greeting died on his lips in bewilderment as he watched her back into the room. Two servants followed her carrying a narrow bookcase, which she directed them to place next to his bed. The top shelf was no higher than his bed's headboard. The servants repositioned her arm chair and settled the bookcase in place. Instead of putting it with its back up against the wall, they situated with its side to the wall, about six inches away from the bed, facing Adam. 

As they left, Marlena stood at the foot of Adam's bed. "Now, dear, can you reach the shelves?" Feeling very self-conscious, Adam stretched and found that he could easily reach the second and third shelves, and the top one with some difficulty. Anything lower was out of the question, however. 

"Good. I thought those stacks on the night table were beginning to look a bit precarious." She walked over to the table. "So, which ones are you using right now?" Mutely, Adam pointed, and his mother gathered up the others and, leaning around the end of the shelves, arranged them in neat rows on the second and third shelves. The case was narrow enough that it didn't block his view of the windows, and it did make accessing the books more convenient. It just had an uncomfortable air of permanency about it. 

Sighing, he went back to work. His father and Duncan were still out doing king and advisor things for the rest of the afternoon, and weren't expected back till evening. That morning, he'd watched, half in amusement, half in appallment, while his mother went over her husband's schedule. She'd made several changes, striking out a meeting with the weaver's guild and shortening the time allotted to a merchant's guild representative. Once she'd approved it, she'd let the king leave with the admonishment that he'd better take break she'd scheduled for him. It hadn't been easy for Adam to stifle his laughter at his father's expression. They weren't due back until after dinner. 

Once he'd eaten, Adam tried to go back to reading, but he kept nodding off. Finally, he gave up and put the book on the second shelf - sigh - and lay back in bed. Teela was already asleep, but she'd had a more active day. 

Adam drifted into a sort of half-awake, half-asleep state where he could hear his mother humming softly nearby and Teela's breathing, but he couldn't move. Periodically, he'd drift deeper and have a dream, usually very weird and elusive, then he'd drift back up again and become aware of his surroundings. He heard his father and Man-at-Arms come in during one of those semi-lucid states, and he was happy that they were back. This seemed to release him for real sleep, for he fell almost immediately into a deep slumber. 

And was awakened, it seemed only moments later, by Teela screaming at the top of her lungs.

He started awake, but didn't move. Not after last night. He just opened his eyes and looked up. His father stood just to the right of the foot of his bed, a long, slender-bladed knife held aloft in his right hand, taking careful aim. The double-edged blade glittered in the lamplight. Adam's heart lurched, but he felt frozen, like he was still in a dream. The lights were on, and his father was still dressed for the day. His mother's chair was empty, and he couldn't see Man-at-Arms anywhere in view.

Out of the corner of his eye, he saw a glint as Teela's cobra staff extended, then she swung it back out of his range of vision. His father was so still and blank he almost didn't seem to breath. Teela's staff came abruptly back into view and struck the king's leg just above his knee-brace. 

Randor fell backwards and hit the floor with an anguished cry.

Teela was yelling, and suddenly Adam could make out words. "Father!! Help, Father!!!"

Randor, still holding his knife, reached up and grabbed the bedpost with his left hand, dragging himself to this feet to stand over Adam's bed again, blade held high. 

Adam's petrifaction broke, and he found himself screaming, "Duncan! Help!!"

The door flung open and Dorgan came through with Man-at-Arms right on his heels. The healer stopped in shock, staring at the tableau, but Duncan shoved him aside and tackled the king. They went down together, struggling for the knife. Adam lay back, breathing hard. His father was bellowing something, and so was Duncan, but he couldn't focus on either of their words.

Suddenly he felt a thump against the cast on his left leg. He sat bolt upright, heedless of the pain. He was alone on the bed, and he certainly hadn't smacked himself. A mottled, sinuous form lay coiled on the right side of the foot of his bed. Its teeth were buried in his cast. It reared back for a second strike, and Adam saw just how long its fangs were. He couldn't tell if it had gotten through to his skin because his leg was already screaming in pain. Its head weaved for a moment and it turned toward the unprotected skin of his thigh, at which point Teela shrieked, "Snaaaaake!" She raised her staff to bat it away, but Adam knew the blow would fall too late. 

Suddenly, a green and yellow streak rose up between the two beds, snatched the snake just behind the head and began shaking it wildly. Its body whipped back and forth against the bedposts as Cringer worried at it. Adam cried out in horror. What if it bit Cringer? Was it poisonous?

At Teela's cry, the two men had broken apart, and now they both loomed over Adam, staring wide-eyed at him. Both men ducked when the snake flew free as Cringer flung it away. It thudded against the wall next to Dorgan's head. 

He looked down at the creature and cried out. "A speckled insurname!"

"What?" Man-at-Arms exclaimed, staring at the snake. 

His father sheathed his blade with an irritated gesture and felt at the bruise on his face. "That's what I was trying to tell you, Duncan!" he growled.

"It bit me," Adam said numbly, his gut going cold with fear. Silence fell in the room. The insurname, in all its various guises, was the most poisonous snake on Eternia. It was also among the most rare. He looked up into his father's eyes and saw the terror in them. He blinked, dreadful a certainty coming over him. "I'm dead. I'm dead." Randor shook his head, his mouth moving, but no words came out. 

Silence filled the room, then Dorgan launched himself across the intervening space, swearing. "A knife! A knife! Someone give me a knife!" 

Duncan didn't move, but Randor passed his dagger across to the healer.

"Hey, hey! What are you going to do?" Adam asked, dragging himself backwards a little. 

"Adam, don't move," his father said. He rushed to the head of the bed, knocking the bookcase flat on its back in the process, and, reaching out, held his son down.

"But - no - what's he going to do?" Adam demanded shrilly, struck by a horrible premonition.


	11. Chapter 11

Chapter 11

  
  


Dorgan tossed the covers aside and, with a precision at odds with his desperate air, began to carefully break through the surface of the cast. "Blast it," Dorgan muttered. He turned to the audience behind him, and Adam noticed for the first time that the room was almost full. Guards stood nearby, a pair of Avions he didn't recognize stood near the windows. "Someone get me a serrated knife!" Dorgan ordered. No one moved. "NOW!" he thundered. 

Four guards ran out of the room immediately. Dorgan turned back and started trying to pry the cast open again. Seconds later, he was handed a wicked-looking knife that he applied to the cast and began to saw, once again with more care than his agitation suggested he was capable of. A thought struck Adam, and he looked up at his father's face. 

"Father, Cringer! Did it bite Cringer?"

"Not now, Adam!" Randor said hurriedly. 

"But, Father, he - someone's got to check!"

Teela slid off her bed to the floor. "Don't worry, Adam, I'll look him over," she said. 

Adam's breath was coming in sharp gasps, and he felt drops of sweat trickling down his face and his back. His gut was queasy. He tried desperately to remember what the symptoms of insurname poisoning were, but nothing came to mind. Memory loss? Was that a symptom?

The cast came off, and Adam tried to see his leg, but the wrappings covering it were in the way.

Dorgan put the knife aside and began to unwrap the bandages with haste. "Cut it off, man!" Randor barked. 

"I don't dare. There is venom soaking them, but I see no blood. If I were to nick his skin while trying to check him. . ." The healer's voice trailed off.

"Right," Randor muttered. "Sorry."

Finally, the wrappings fell away. Dorgan examined his leg with care and heaved a great sigh of relief. "No bite." 

"No bite?" Randor breathed. 

"No punctures, no wounds, no blood, no swelling. Get me a wet cloth, so I can wipe away the venom on his leg. And you, young lady, keep that cat down on the floor. One scratch could kill the prince."

Adam heard Cringer whimper, and Teela, sounding pathetic, said, "Oh, Cringer, it's okay. He's okay. Just stay down here with me." 

A quavery voice came from the doorway. "What on Eternia is going on here?" his mother demanded, gazing into the room with wide eyes. Adam thought how chaotic it must look to her. 

"Adam didn't get bitten," Randor exclaimed quickly.

"Bitten?" Her eyes widened still further, and then rolled back into her head. Duncan took two long strides and caught her before she fell to the ground. He gave Randor a disgusted look. 

"This, from the man famous the world over for his diplomacy." He lifted Adam's mother into his arms, carried her to the couch and began chafing her wrists. 

Adam finally found his voice again. "How's Cringer?" he asked. "Dorgan, take a look at Cringer."

"Let me get the venom off you, boy. Teela, do you see any swellings, any lumps?"

"No, Dorgan, I think he's fine. He saved Adam's life." Did Teela actually sound weepy? Adam looked at her and saw that tears were streaming down her face. 

"Teela?" Man-at-Arms said from across the room, still working on reviving the queen. His attention was so split, though, that he didn't notice when the queen came to. She, seeing that Teela was crying, leapt up and ran to her, knocking Man-at-Arms off his knees onto his behind. 

Dorgan had still been looking his leg over. He looked up abruptly, face gone pale. "The snake was in the bed with him?" he asked. Randor nodded. 

Teela squeaked as Marlena clutched her. "It was in the bed?" she asked. 

"We have to get him stripped. The bite would go numb instantly, he might have been struck somewhere else and not noticed." 

Adam snatched at the covers, trying to pull them back over himself. "What?" he exclaimed. "I'm fine. I noticed the first one!"

"Dorgan's right, you can't be sure that was the first bite," his father said, pulling the sheet out of his grasp. Dorgan began sawing at the other cast, and his father started pulling up on Adam's shirt. He clutched at it, glancing at the crowd in the room. 

Man-at-Arms stood up and spoke to the gathered throng. "Please clear the room." Everyone filed out, leaving the family plus Dorgan. 

Adam glanced at his father and hissed, "Can't Mom leave, too? And take Teela?"

"Oh, yes, of course, dear," his mother said. "Come along, Teela. We can guard the entrance." Teela obtained her crutches and they went outside the room.

Adam lay back pathetically as his father, Man-at-Arms and Dorgan removed every last stitch from his body. His father gazed worriedly down at him, as Dorgan carefully examined every square inch of the top half of him. 

"Randor, lift him up." 

His father slid his hands gently under Adam's shoulders, murmuring, "Adam, I'm sorry, I know this is going to hurt, but it has to be done." Adam closed his eyes and grit his teeth. He was determined not to cry out. His father was upset enough. He couldn't help it, though when his legs were lifted and examined. 

When they were done, they lay him gently back down again. Dorgan began speaking with his father, but Adam didn't really hear what they were saying. He had visions going through his mind of what would have happened had the snake actually bitten him. The list of symptoms had flooded into his head as they examined him. Convulsions - boy would those have hurt with broken bones - tongue turning black. His mother would have cried. Teela was already crying. The Sorceress - what would they all have done about He-Man? Would they have told them the truth? How would Skeletor have reacted to the knowledge that He-Man was killed by a poisonous snake? Where had the snake come from? Were there more of them?

He sat again, abruptly. "Dad!" The pain shot through him and he began breathing in gasps. His father and Dorgan forced him to lie back. "Dad, more? Snakes? Could there be more?"

"By the Elders, he's right! There could be more of them. Beastman could have sent a slew of them! Duncan, start a search. Search everywhere!"

"Search carefully!" Adam burst out. "But not Cringer!"

"What?" his father asked, looking startled.

"Don't let Cringer search!" Adam pleaded.

"Yes, son, of course. Everywhere, starting with here!" He gulped, leaned down and slid his arms under Adam. "Get ready, both of you."

"What are you doing, Randor?" Dorgan demanded, watching the king in obvious alarm.

"What if there are more in the bed?"

"We'd have seen -"

"Under the mattress?"

Dorgan paled again, and gave the king a sharp nod. Randor lifted Adam carefully and held him while Dorgan and Duncan shook the mattress out and looked under the bed. Then they helped Randor lay his son back on the bed. Tears of pain were running down Adam's face now, and he didn't care.

He started shaking uncontrollably. "It's too much," he muttered. "Just too much."

"He's shocky." Dorgan grabbed a blanket and flipped it over him. "Where's that cat? Maybe he can help keep him warm while I go fetch the supplies to rebuild the casts."

Randor coaxed Cringer up onto the bed while Duncan tore the room apart, searching for snakes. Then Man-at-Arms opened the door and called, "Get Manny in here." 

"It's all right, Cringer, just don't touch his legs," Randor murmured, petting the trembling tiger's back.

Cringer curled up next to Adam's torso, and Adam buried his hands and face in the great cat's fur, not wanting Manny to see him crying. Randor sat down on the other side of the bed and stroked Adam's hair. It felt good.

He listened while they made plans to search the entire castle. Then Dorgan came back, supplies in hand. Adam's legs were screaming from all the movement, and he said, "Dorgan, can you give me something to knock me out?"

The healer shook his head sympathetically. "Adam, you're in shock, I can't." 

"Don't worry, son, I'll stay with you," his father said. Adam glanced gratefully up at him, sniffling.

"Yes, Randor, you are staying. Because when I'm done with Adam, I'm going to take a look at your knee. I noticed you're limping. What happened?"

His hand never stopped on Adam's hair, but Randor groaned. "I don't really want to talk about it, Dorgan."

"Tough."

  
  


***

  
  


Evil-Lyn ground her teeth. She'd been watching, delightedly, as her little beetle had crept up the frame of the prince's bed. It was on the covers, inching up toward the boy's hand when, out of nowhere, a snake darted forward and snapped it up, swallowing it in one gulp. It had taken all her considerable will power to keep from sending a fatal bolt of energy at the back of Beastman's head. Dolt though he was, Skeletor would be more than a little peeved if she damaged him too severely. 

So, all the time that she'd assumed he was thinking and plotting, he'd been summoning that little viper. She'd have to be careful not to underestimate the dunderhead in the future.

But now she had to come up with yet a third plan. Unless Beastman succeeded, perish the thought. She continued to watch the little drama play out. It got quite amusing for a time, especially after the snake had been killed by that flea-bitten mongrel. She tuned out at about the time they were undressing the little wimp. Now, if it had been Randor, that might have been a different story. Or perhaps that interesting Man-at-Arms fellow. But a scrawny, sniveling sixteen-year-old? Please! She had her standards. 

Beastman growled when the snake was killed. It was obvious he could sense the serpent's death. Then he settled down again, an irate gleam in his eye, staring once more into the middle distance. Evil-Lyn wondered what he had planned this time. Curious, and needing to re-think her own strategy, she sat back to see what was coming.

  
  


***

  
  


Adam didn't wake until nearly noon the next day. And when he woke, he wished he hadn't. He had cried. In front of his father, and Man-at-Arms, and Dorgan. At least Teela hadn't been there.

He opened his eyes slowly. Shadows danced across the ceiling in time with a gentle breeze he could hear outside. Cringer was purring beside him, twitching every so often as he caught butterflies or something in his dreams. His mother sat reading in her armchair. Evidently her embroidery project was done, or she'd tired of it. The bookcase was again standing beside his bed, the books replaced. It appeared that someone had returned Elegius' diaries to their chest, and that, too, sat on the shelves. He glanced to his other side. Teela was not in bed, but her covers were rumpled. 

"Adam, I'm glad to see you're awake." Marlena set the book aside and came over to the bed, sitting beside Cringer. "You okay?" she asked, leaning across the cat to put her hand on Adam's arm.

Adam shrugged. "Where's Teela?" he asked. 

"The masters are meeting with your father," she said, squeezing his arm, then sitting back. "Everyone's here except He-Man."

Adam sighed and shifted listlessly, staring down at this hands on the covers. "What are they meeting about?" 

Her lips twisted wryly. "What do you think?" she asked. "Your father has decided, and about time, I think, to give Skeletor something to think about besides coming after you."

Adam looked sharply over at her. "What do you mean?" 

"He and most of the masters are going -"

"No!" Adam exclaimed. "Father can't go!" His mother looked startled. "Teela hit him in the knee. He was limping last night. He can't go!"

"Your father has to go," Marlena said. "He has to make it clear to Skeletor that we will not tolerate this nonsense!"

"Couldn't someone else make it clear?" Adam asked desperately. "Like Man-E-Faces or Ram-Man? Or Man-at-Arms? He's really good at making things clear."

"Yes, he is, but that's not the point. This has to come from the king himself."

"But if he told Man-at-Arms what to say? Or sent him a note. In a box! With a purple ribbon!" Adam thought furiously, trying to come up with other options. At that moment, the door opened. Randor held the door open as Teela swung herself in on her crutches and went to sit on her bed where her father got her foot arranged on pillows. Servants followed them in carrying lunch trays. 

"Man-at-Arms!" Adam cried. "You can't let him! He can't go to Snake Mountain!"

They all four stared at him. After a moment, Duncan said, "What do you mean, Adam?"

"Father!" Adam exclaimed. "He can't go to Snake Mountain. He was hurt last night." Man-at-Arms' eyebrows wrinkled, and Adam could see that he didn't quite get what he was talking about. "Remember, last night? Dorgan said he was limping."

"It was nothing, Adam," Randor said. "Truly. It had passed off before I went to bed."

"Teela hit you really hard! You fell down. I can't believe that you're really well enough to attack Skeletor. Old people don't heal that fast!"

Randor looked a bit taken aback. "Adam, really, I'm fine. And I will not let Skeletor get away with this."

"I'm forced to agree," Duncan said. "If we don't take decisive steps now, we'll look weak. We'd be practically inviting Skeletor to keep on with this kind of thing."

Adam stared at his mentor in shock. He'd been certain that, of all people, Man-at-Arms would agree with him. After all, that time in Subternia, he'd spent half the trip trying to convince the king to return to the palace for safety's sake

"It's time for us all to eat lunch," Marlena said, firmly. "There's no point in discussing this now."

"Quite right, my dear," Randor agreed. Adam flopped back on the bed. He was having no success. The only times he'd ever seen his father fight Skeletor, he hadn't come off the winner, but he wasn't about to say that to him now. ** Maybe later - if I'm really desperate. **

"You could at least wait for He-Man to come back," Adam suggested desperately.

Randor shook his head resolutely. "No. From what Duncan says, it's going to take weeks for him to return, and I'm not willing to wait that long. I'm sorry, Adam, but this is how it has to be."

Faced with three stubbornly determined adults, Adam sank back, dejected. He didn't eat much lunch, though his mother kept pushing him to. He fell back on his old strategy of giving bits of his food to Cringer to hide how little he was eating from his mother, a ploy made easier by their sharing the same surface. 

Adam looked up from sneaking Cringer a bit of cheese. There was an odd, angry sort of thrumming, as of the sound of many wings. An Andrenid zoomed in through the window. "Your highness! Man-at-Arms! We're being swarmed!"

Strange, scaly, blue-green creatures zipped in through the open windows. Man-at-Arms and Randor ran to close the sashes, but the one window Adam's father managed to shut was shattered when three of the creatures dived through it. They were about eight inches high, and looked like a madman's idea of a fairy. Their eyes were pits of dark green shadow, their nostrils were mere slits, and their mouths were full of tiny, razor-sharp teeth. They had spiked, bat-like wings and two legs that ended in clawed hands. 

"What are they?" the queen cried. They buzzed around her, snatching at her hair and her clothes, some of them actually landing on her. She tried to bat them away, but there were too many of them.

"Medesmas!" The Andrenid had his wings pulled in tightly against his body. "Mostly they're quiet and shy, but they're a menace when they swarm."

The creatures whirled around, attacking everyone in the room. Everyone, that is, except Adam, who watched in horrified amazement. 

Cringer, beset, dove under the bed. Randor waded through the onslaught and seized Marlena around the waist. Opening the door, he shoved her through and slammed it behind her. Teela, after her staff was snatched from her hands by about a dozen of them, tried with limited success to catch them out of the air and immobilize them. 

Out the window, Adam could see that the Andrenids, Avions and even the sky sleds were being grounded by the invasion. 

"Adam!" his father yelled, and Adam's attention was drawn back into the room. "Adam, are you all right? Get yourself under cover!"

"They're not attacking me!" Adam picked up the nearest thing to hand, a book, and started swinging at the creatures, but none of them were within his reach.

Suddenly, he found himself surrounded by them as a flock of them dropped down onto him from above. "Aack!" A huge mass of them seized him by the clothes, the hair, the skin, whatever they could reach. The ones around him didn't seem bent on harrying him so much as lifting. Slowly, he found himself rising off the bed. He struggled to no avail. There was no one to strike at, and they had him fairly well immobilized by his own weight

They got him about two feet off the bed and had started toward the window before he managed to scream. "Father!!! Man-at-Arms! Help!"

He heard his father's furious cries, but could see nothing past his body as they took him out of the room through the window. Adam twisted his head to look down. His stomach turned over abruptly and he wished he hadn't. He hadn't gotten this good a look at the drop from the west wall since his birthday when he'd nearly fallen. This time, however, Stratos would not likely be there to save him. He could see that the creatures were badgering anyone in the palace grounds that they could find. Suddenly, he caught 

sight of Stratos, flying upward rapidly. A cloud of the things surrounded him and dragged him back down. Adam's heart plummeted with the Avion.


	12. Chapter 12

Chapter 12

  
  


What if their plan was to drop him off the cliff? To get him out a ways and then - just - let go? Adam could feel himself shuddering, and started trying to take deep breaths to calm himself down. The last thing he needed to do at this moment was to shake himself loose.

They didn't drop him over the lowlands. Instead, they flew him to the high ground to the southwest and let go when he was about three feet up. Adam cried out as he fell, but the landing knocked the wind out of him. A moment later, Beastman's ugly face loomed up over him.

"Won't Skeletor be pleased when I present you to him on a platter?" Still struggling to breathe, Adam had a horrible vision of himself, roasted, as the main course of a meal at Snake Mountain. Surely he didn't - surely he wouldn't - Then Adam's thoughts broke utterly. He-Man had suddenly appeared above and behind Beastman. His eyes widened and he stared at the half-familiar face in bewilderment. A stray thought wandered through his brain. ** Do I really look like that? **

"Does that thought frighten you, boy?" Beastman demanded, obviously enjoying Adam's alarmed expression. Then he blinked, clearly realizing that Adam wasn't looking at him.

He whirled, and He-Man - Adam's mind was still boggling - picked him up and threw into a rock ten feet away. Part of Adam noticed that He-Man's hands never actually seemed to touch Beastman's body, but it must have seemed so to Beastman, who fell to the ground, unconscious. 

Adam stared up at the colossal figure, his brain still frozen by the impossibility of what he was seeing. The massive man stood tall, hands fisted on his hips. Unless - Man-at-Arms had used a robot to fool Skeletor when he'd been kidnaped the last time - No, he dismissed that notion. There had been no time to prepare. So who was this?

"Who are you?" he demanded.

***

Evil-Lyn gazed down at the idiot boy before her. Couldn't he recognize He-Man when he saw him? Unless that short fall had addled his wits. Of course, there weren't that many wits to addle. When she didn't immediately respond to his ridiculous question, he commenced screaming for help. There was no one around to hear him and come to his aid, but Evil-Lyn grew quickly tired of the incessant sound and send a bolt of energy into his head to knock him out. 

What an ungrateful wretch. She wondered why He-Man even bothered.

***

A distant dripping was the first sound that came to Adam's awareness. He didn't want to open his eyes. If he was at home and fine, his mother would speak to him soon, and then he would open his eyes. But the air around him was hot and dry, and he could feel warm air against his toes. His legs complained without surcease, and he was lying on a hard, slightly uneven surface. Something heavy and cold rested in a line across his stomach. Somehow, he didn't think he was safe at home.

The voice that spoke a few moments later persuaded him that he was right.

"However did you get him away from He-Man, Evil-Lyn?" Skeletor sounded pleased, almost proud of his witch. Adam tried not to move. Surely the bone-faced monstrosity wouldn't kill him if he wasn't awake to experience it.

"I have my methods," Evil-Lyn drawled. "They wouldn't work for you." For a moment, Adam wondered what she meant. Then he realized, and the image of Evil-Lyn flirting coyly with He-Man made him want to gag.

Skeletor, however, let out one of those cacophonous laughs. Adam found himself suddenly hoping that his father would lead the masters here right about now. 

"So, boy." A hard hand came down and pressed on his thigh right where his stitches were. Adam jumped violently at the pain, and jerked when Skeletor spoke again, seeming very close. "Are you going to stop playing possum and open your eyes?" 

He opened his eyes to see Skeletor's bony face not four inches away from his. The sight of those empty sockets so close gave him cold shivers, and he started trying to drag himself backwards, away from the Lord of Snake Mountain. A metallic rattling met his ears, and the weight on his stomach shifted slightly. He looked down to see that his wrists were manacled together with a length of chain. Skeletor laughed again, like a madman, and, giving Adam's stitches a final dig with his thumb, he stood up.

Evil Lyn stood beside and slightly behind him. Adam scanned his surroundings. They were in the throne room, and Adam lay on the floor a few feet before the stairs leading to the throne. There didn't appear to be anyone else present. Did that mean that Skeletor was having a private audience with his current favorite, or wasn't there anybody else around?

"So, Skeletor, how do you plan to get rid of the boy?" Evil Lyn asked, a malicious thrill in her voice. Adam's gut chilled. He didn't want to be awake for this. Really.

Skeletor gazed down at Adam. It was unnerving, that gaze through the hollow sockets of the skull. With no flesh, no eyes, nothing there, that sense of vile malevolence shouldn't come across, but it did. Adam tried not to change expression, not to move. He could not escape. Even if he tried to drag himself away, his casts would hinder him more than the chains did, and Skeletor and Evil Lyn would have a good laugh at his expense. There was no point in giving them further satisfaction.

"I will have to give it some thought," the master of Snake Mountain said slowly. "Something properly creative must be found." He gave Adam a hideous grin. "And in the meantime, I'm sure I can find some use for the cowardly Prince of Eternia." Adam clenched his teeth against a bitter retort. If he couldn't defend himself from slurs of cowardice from his friends, still less could he do so before his enemies.

"What the - " Another voice spoke from one of the cavernous entrances to the throne room. Adam glanced back to see who had entered and saw Trap Jaw. He closed his eyes and laid his head back against the floor. Wonderful, just wonderful! Another tormenter. "Hey, who got the prince?" he asked.

"Not you, you metal mandibled moron!" snapped Skeletor. 

"Well, yeah, I know," Trap Jaw said, in a perplexed voice, continuing into the room. Adam winced as the villain's feet stopped inches from his right leg. "Hey," he said after a moment's observation. "Look at the cute pajamas."

Adam opened his eyes. What was he talking about? He glanced down at himself and saw that he was wearing green silk pajamas with the royal crest embroidered in dark green and purple on the left breast. Just below that was a letter A, also in green and purple. And now he knew what project his mother had been working on, because he'd never had monogrammed pajamas before. And he'd thought this moment couldn't get any worse.

Evil-Lyn went down on one knee next to him, and took the collar of the shirt between thumb and forefingers. "Silk!" She ran her fingers across his chest and the embroidery. Her touch made him shudder. "So is this what your sweet mother spent so many hours on?" she asked, her voice dripping with saccharine.

He couldn't stop himself. He grabbed for her with both hands, ready to strangle her. Eyes flashing pale lavender, she lifted a hand and let forth a burst of energy that knocked him back so hard that his head smacked against the floor. 

Trap Jaw reached down and lifted the chain at the center and held it high enough that his arms were hoisted into the air, neatly immobilizing him. 

Rising to her feet, Evil-Lyn spoke in scathing tones. "If you insist on keeping him, at least make it more difficult for him to escape."

Skeletor looked consideringly at Evil Lyn, and then back down at Adam. He raised the ram's headed staff and pointed it at the prince. Trap Jaw hastily dropped the chain, and it thumped down on Adam's chest. Skeletor was going to kill him. The time had come. Adam steeled himself for the blow.

When it came, though, he opened his eyes in shock. The blast of power from the staff hadn't killed him, it had merely obliterated the casts. Little bits of plaster littered the throne room. Adam nearly bit through his lip as his legs fell the couple of inches to the hard, uneven floor. The skin where the casts had been felt like it was on fire. There was a large part of his mind that wished that someone would just kill him, and get it over with. 

He trod firmly on that thought. His death was not the answer. 

"Now, Trap Jaw, pick the young prince up and throw him into a nice, comfortable cell."

Despite all the clenched teeth and deep breathing he could do, nothing could keep Adam from screaming as Trap Jaw lifted him roughly from the floor. He could barely hear the laughter of Evil Lyn and Skeletor over the sound of his own cries.

As Trap Jaw released him, Adam felt himself turn in the air. All the training he'd received from Man-at-Arms on how to fall without injuring himself ran uselessly through his mind. They had never addressed what to do when you had a chain linking your wrists and two unsplinted, unprotected broken legs. He could tell that he was going to land on his face, so he brought his hands up to protect his eyes. His left wrist smashed into something as he landed, and he had a sinking feeling that another serious injury had been added to his tally. Now if he could only survive long enough to get treated for it.

When he landed he kept rolling, so he wound up on his back, looking up at a shadowy ceiling. He lay still, wrists draped across his chest, the left one throbbing, his legs gone past pain into some whole new dimension. Dorgan would be furious. Lying there, Adam reflected that it could be worse. He could be chained atop a pillar of stone in the middle of a pool of lava waiting for someone who wouldn't come. Of course, this time there was little chance that Teela would show up with a rude remark and rescue him. 

After a few moments simply laying there, regaining his breath, Adam struggled to a sitting position. He would not just lie here on the floor of Skeletor's prison waiting for whatever was to come. The back wall of the cell wasn't far. Pushing between his legs with his right hand and all the strength he could muster in his torso, he shoved himself across the cell to where he could lean against the back wall and sit up facing the door. There he rested, panting. His hopes were split evenly down the middle. If the next being through that door was Skeletor or one of his hirelings, he would prefer a long wait. If it was his father or Man-at-Arms, they could come in right now. He just hoped they'd remember the stretcher. 

***

Evil-Lyn sat in a corner of the throne room, listening to Skeletor gloat as though he'd achieved some great victory today. That sycophant Trap Jaw fed his ego so willingly that he didn't seem to notice that Evil-Lyn wasn't joining in. Not surprising, really. The last thing Skeletor ever wanted to be reminded of was failures he had been present for. The next-to-last thing was being reminded that someone else had been partially or - heaven forfend - entirely responsible for 'his' success. He'd likely not think to call for her for some time yet.

And he didn't know about her new little toy that let her spy into the castle. It was more limited than Tri-Klops' Doomseekers anyway, so Skeletor would undoubtedly be less than interested. With an arcane gesture, she pulled it out of the pocket dimension she stored all such things in, and, gazing deeply into it, she envisioned that tower room where they'd hidden the prince after she and Beastman had failed to remove him from the palace. A surge of annoyance distracted her. How had that grotesque furball managed to succeed where she had not?

She had to stop and start again when her irritation with Beastman overcame her ability to concentrate. Once again, she set herself to envisioning that room, where she was sure that at least some part of the boy's family would be. Her eyes flashed a deep green, and the image materialized in the mirror. Randor's delicate queen sat next to the harpy on the bed, arm around her. Teela was speaking, and her expression was one of fury. Evil-Lyn smiled. Poor dear child, proven incompetent to protect her little prince. How terribly she must feel her failure. Well, it was her turn.

The queen, however, didn't seem nearly as upset or desperate as Evil-Lyn would have expected. Her single chick was missing and she looked - placatory? What possible reason could she have to placate that wretched Teela? And where was Randor? Why wasn't he comforting his precious queen? And that darling Man-at-Arms? Where was he? The two women were alone in the room apart from a quartet of handsome but quite ordinary guards.

She banished the image and looked elsewhere in the palace. It took time, and energy, but she had a feeling that something was wrong. Everywhere she looked, people appeared to be actively worried, but they also had a determined air about them, as of people who knew that something was going to be done about what troubled them. And she didn't see even one of the masters.

"Skeletor?" she exclaimed, banishing the image and the mirror in one wave. 

"What, Evil-Lyn?" the bony fool demanded. "Can't you see I'm busy?"

"Where are the others? Is anyone here but we three?"

He raised an eyebrow. "What, are you looking for an audience to show off in front of? Believe me, Evil-Lyn, you'll have a much more gratifying reaction if they've spent the day attempting to reach the prince and return to find that he's already here."

She rose to her feet. "No, you fool! You must call them back!"

He stood slowly, gaze gone dangerously intent. "You dare to call me fool?" he said in a perilous tone. "I am -"

"Going to give me my son back, now!" Randor's voice thundered through the throne room, echoes serving to reinforce the demand. 


	13. Chapter 13 & Epilogue

Sorry this has taken so long, folks. Life has rather intervened. I hope you enjoyed the story, because this is the last section. However, if you go to the forums at He-Man.Org, you can find the sequel, Invisible Chains, which I am posting in short segments as they are edited by my trusty beta reader, Catslyn. 

  
  


Chapter 13

  
  


"Going to give me my son back, now!" Randor's voice thundered through the throne room, echoes serving to reinforce the demand. Behind and about and even above him ranged the masters and two squads of the palace guard. The king of Eternia's face was a mask of rage as he gave Skeletor a level look. "If you want to survive the day, you will tell me where Adam is."

Skeletor gazed levelly back. "Never!" he declared.

Evil-Lyn seized a patch of shadow and wrapped it about herself. Skeletor was a fool. The gathered Eternians were universally grim and determined, and Randor looked downright murderous. There were moments to fight and moments to withdraw and build strength. Unfortunately, she wasn't yet ready to do without the bonehead, so she would have to help him. But she'd have far more chance of successful attack if they didn't know she was present. And of successful flight should that become necessary. 

Skeletor summoned his staff to his hand and began firing blasts of mystical energy at his foes, starting with the ordinary men who had no defense against him.

At least, they've never had any defense against him before. Evil-Lyn was horror-struck when the first of Skeletor's bolts was simply absorbed into a strange screen that flared up in front of one of the guards. Each successive bolt directed at one of Randor's soldiers was swallowed into a similar shield. They had developed some kind of portable force field that protected men from magical attack! She noticed that Man-at-Arms was looking on, pleased, at this successful field testing of his latest technology. She sighed. ** Why can't my allies be so competent? **

Trap Jaw's bolts from his laser cannon were somewhat more effective. Randor, screaming a war cry at the top of his lungs, charged straight at Skeletor. Outmanned and outgunned as he was, the Lord of Snake Mountain launched himself at the king of Eternia. They met in a shower of sparks and fought a solitary duel in the center of the room. 

Several of the masters mobbed Trap Jaw and prevented him from firing, but the metallic hybrid didn't give up He kept fighting madly, clearly determined not to let Skeletor fall alone. Madness! Bloodthirsty idiots!

She had a sudden flash of inspiration. Randor had the upper hand, and he would not stop tearing Snake Mountain apart until he had his precious son. With no one there to stop him and Skeletor determined to fight to the end. . . .

But if he had his son and heir returned to him - with the news that reinforcements were on the way - the sentimental buffoon would undoubtedly withdraw. She pulled back into the shadows, avoiding the melee. Once she was well out of the way of the fighting, she rapidly absorbed power into herself and called out to her colleagues. They were, as she had suspected, scattered about at various distances from Snake Mountain. By the time some of them managed to return, they might well be repelled by an occupying force. She summoned them back. In the midst of her last communication, she broke off with a realistic sounding cry. There, that should cover her absence from the battle. 

Then she drew energies to swirl around her and once again cast the illusion that she was He-Man. She went swiftly to the prince's cell, but found the door already open when she arrived. Who - had one of Randor's guards found the prince?

"No," Adam's voice cried weakly from in the cell. "Get back." Unless he regularly spurned offers of help, she suspected not. His voice strengthened as he called out. "Help!"

As she entered the room, she saw that Panthor was looming over the prince with one great paw raised to strike while the helpless boy did his poor best to shield himself with manacled hands.

Thinking quickly, Evil-Lyn created a nimbus of power around her hands, and struck the big cat with a fist, knocking him aside. Panthor flew into the wall and fell to lay limply on the floor. She hoped that the feline had been too busy with the prince to notice her scent, which wasn't masked by the illusion. If she ever had cause to imitate He-Man again, she'd have to deal with that. Skeletor would be none too pleased with her if he were to find out what she was doing.

Prince Adam looked up at her, a weak grin on his face. Then he got a good look at her appearance and his eyes widened and he groaned. "No! No, not you again!" Sighing deeply, for it would not do to have him telling the world that she was not whom she appeared to be, she knocked him senseless once more. Gazing down at the sad creature, she contemplated what a fuss was being made about the pathetic ninny. 

He hardly seemed worth it.

  
  


***

  
  


How would He-Man lift an injured boy, so as to injure him no further? Shaking her head, she levitated him into the best approximation of such care that she could manage. Then she placed her arms so that she would appear to be holding him. 

Footsteps behind her made her turn. If it was one of the others, she was in trouble. How could she possibly fight with this burden? But it was only one of Randor's guards, the man who'd spoken to the prince on the stretcher. "He-Man!" he exclaimed. "You've returned, thank the Elders." He walked toward her. "Prince Adam! Is he . . . he's not . . . dead, is he?" 

"No, he's just unconscious," Evil-Lyn said in what she hoped was a reassuring tone.

"Oh, good." He peered briefly at the boy's face, concern evident in his own expression. Then he turned away, holding his weapon at the ready. As the guard scanned the room, he said, "I heard the prince cry out for help, and - what's that?" His eye had fallen on Panthor. 

"Skeletor's pet cat. Come, we must get the prince to his father." The man nodded, and, as they left the room, he slammed the door shut behind them.

"We don't want that creature coming up behind us." Privately, Evil-Lyn agreed, but for different reasons. They dashed for the throne room. As they moved through the halls, they ran across several more guards searching for the young prince. Awestruck by the sudden appearance of the mammoth man, they followed her back to the center of the fighting talking excitedly amongst themselves. 

"Your highness!" she cried in that deep bass. At the sound of He-Man's voice, there was a pause in the melee throughout the room. Everyone turned to stare at her. Randor's eyes blossomed with relief and worry. Skeletor's began to glow like embers when he saw He-Man enter the throne room carrying the limp form of the injured prince. He no longer had his staff, but was fighting Randor with his twin blades. Randor's distraction gave him the advantage he needed, and he drew back to strike at the king's unprotected neck. At the last possible second, Man-at-Arms thrust his mace between the king and his assailant. Randor didn't even seem to notice. He broke off from the duel immediately to run toward Evil-Lyn and her burden, his eyes never leaving the form of his unconscious son. ** How touching. **

The soldiers and masters who stood in between them moved rapidly out of the king's way. 

It felt very peculiar to stand her ground without summoning a spell as the king of Eternia ran toward her. He stopped short directly in front of her and stared at Adam, breathing in the living sight of his son. Evil-Lyn looked down at the boy, seeing him for a moment through his father's eyes. A poor, battered youth in green pajamas, tattered shreds of which failed to conceal swollen and discolored legs. Bruises, cuts and scrapes marked his fair skin. Chains still bound his wrists together, and his head had fallen against her shoulder. His eyes were closed and he had appalling air of innocence about him. Her brows knit. She'd better get Randor out of here quickly, or he wouldn't just level Snake Mountain, he'd leave a crater.

Swollen with fury, the king turned back, brandishing his sword, and roared, "Skeletor!!!!"

This stentorian cry attracted Skeletor's attention from where he was struggling with Man-at-Arms, and Randor's lapdog got in a lucky blow on the back of his opponent's skull. Skeletor went to his knees, but surged back up again. Seeing finally that there was no hope of winning this battle, he turned back and barreled into Man-at-Arms. While the tech was off balance, Skeletor took off down one of the corridors of Snake Mountain. Trap Jaw broke free of his attackers and followed his master. 

The king took Adam from her and gently lowered his son to the floor. The masters and soldiers ran up to gather around them. The whole lot of them had eyes only for the broken and damaged prince. With the anger and worry in their eyes, Evil-Lyn was very glad indeed that they could not see who she really was. 

The long-necked loon extended his neck to defeat the crowds in front of him. Leaning close, he said, "Is he. . .?"

"No," Randor said. "No, he's alive, but he's unconscious." There was a murmur of relief around them, and several of the masters thanked her. She shifted uncomfortably, uncertain how to respond.

It was time to set the next step of her plan into motion. "I interrupted Evil-Lyn as she summoned help from the other miscreants," she said. The king looked up at her in startlement. "They'll be here any moment."

Man-at-Arms ran up and regarded her with an expression reminiscent of Adam's the first time he saw her. The stunned, disbelieving look in his eyes made her intensely curious about what he was thinking.

Randor reached up and caught her by the wrist, diverting her attention. "Thank you, He-Man. I-I don't know if I can thank you enough."

What would that dim-witted champion say at a time like this, Evil-Lyn wondered. Improvising rapidly, she said, "Take him home, your highness. His mother will be missing him." Randor nodded, and others around seemed satisfied, so she must have hit something right. Now, however, she had to get away before someone expected a feat of strength or swordplay. "I'll go after Skeletor," she declared. Man-at-Arms looked rather like he wanted to take her aside, which couldn't be permitted. Some kind of grandstanding ploy was needed to escape before her theoretical allies discovered her true identity. This ruse wasn't really designed to withstand long-term contact with people who actually knew He-Man. She drew her sword, held it aloft and cried, "Return the prince to safety, and I'll see that this doesn't happen again." So saying she turned and ran down the corridor that Skeletor had taken. 

As far as seeing that this didn't happen again, she was surely going to try. She wondered who bone-brain's failed scheme was going to be blamed on this time. She devoutly hoped it wouldn't be her. Who could she set up for the fall. . .? 

As soon as she was far enough away to be out of easy range of Randor's men, but not so far that Skeletor and Trap Jaw might see her, she resumed her own form and followed them at a stately pace. After all, she'd been interrupted by He-Man, and that took it out of a girl.

  
  


***

  
  


Adam woke up, but he didn't open his eyes immediately. This time he was lying on a soft surface with some kind of cover over him, but he wasn't opening his eyes until he heard his mother's voice. It could be a trick of some kind. Or a dream. It was probably a dream. He was probably chained to the wall in Snake Mountain.

No doubt Skeletor was off somewhere, sharpening a knife, preparing to cut off a finger, or better yet, cut out his liver, and send it to his father. In a white box. With a purple ribbon. And what was it with purple ribbons? Where on Eternia did Skeletor get purple ribbons? It wasn't like he could go into a shop in some village and buy the stuff. Did Evil-Lyn make it? Did Beastman steal it? And why?

"Why purple?" he murmured. The sound of his voice startled him, and he heard movement around him. 

"What?" The voice asking the question was his father's. Adam's eyes flipped open. His father hovered over him, their faces about four inches apart. Adam let out an involuntary cry and jerked back against the bed, which bounced him back again. His father's eyes widened in alarm. "What is it, Adam, are you all right?"

"I don't know," he said honestly. "Just, the last time I saw anybody that close up, it was Skeletor."

Randor drew back immediately, his brows knit with concern, and Adam could see that he was surrounded. The bookcase had been shoved back against the wall, and his father was sitting on the edge of his bed. Just beyond him, his mother sat in her armchair, leaning forward. Man-at-Arms sat on the side of Teela's bed with her close beside him. Cringer, his eyes on Adam's face, was practically on top of Teela, and she had a hand gently stroking his head. Dorgan sat on a stool between the beds. 

"I hope I'm a more welcome sight than he is," his father said. 

Adam nodded fervently. "It was just startling." They all fell silent, just looking at him, not saying anything, and he wondered what was wrong. "Elders!" he breathed, terror clutching at his gut. "Am I dying?"

There was a brief moment of silence, then Dorgan snorted. "No! But it's no wonder you think so with all of us gathered around you like a family around a dying patriarch. You're fine, Adam." The terror in his gut loosened as Dorgan spoke. "Your legs have been re-traumatized, unfortunately, and the breaks are going to take more time to heal. The stitches were ripped open, and with how far you'd healed on that wound, it was pretty ugly." Adam sighed. Randor grimaced and put a hand on Adam's shoulder. "Do you have to make it sound so bad, Dorgan?" he said. He looked down at Adam with equal parts warmth and worry in his eyes. "You're going to be fine, son. Don't fret."

The healer huffed. "It is that bad, your highness. Lying to the boy won't make him feel any better."

"We understand, Dorgan," his mother said. Her eyes were red and swollen. 

Adam suppressed his impotent fury and smiled at his mother, hoping that it didn't look too much like a grimace of pain. "How long have I been unconscious?" he asked, then shook his head. "I mean, the last thing I remember Trap Jaw was tossing me in that cell." His mother blanched, and he gave her an apologetic look. "How long was I there, and how long have I been back?" A thought occurred to him. "And my wrist?" He lifted his left arm and saw that his wrist was tightly wrapped, though it was not in a cast. 

"You've been back for twenty-eight hours," Dorgan said. "And your wrist is sprained. Other than that, you have few new injuries apart from sundry abrasions and lacerations. Not that those aren't serious enough." His expression grew irritable, and he glanced over at the king. "Did you kill that evil twirp, Randor?"

Adam looked up curiously at his father. Had he? Not to judge from the frustration in his expression. "No!" Randor's voice was harsh. 

"Well, why not?" the healer demanded. "He took those casts off again, and none too gently by the look of it."

"Nope," Adam agreed. Then he realized that he'd actually spoken that thought aloud and wished the bed would swallow him up. His mother looked horrified and Teela actually looked sick. His father's hand tightened comfortingly on his shoulder, but his eyes were haunted. "It wasn't that bad, really," he babbled, trying to make those expressions go away. "There's a point where you can't really feel more pain -" He cut himself off, realizing that he wasn't helping anything. "Um. . . . I feel a lot better now." He looked down at his legs. There were metal frames around them rather than the usual big lumps of white stuff. "Wait!" he exclaimed, his voice breaking. "Where are the new casts?"

"We haven't been able to put new ones on," Dorgan said, leaning forward and gripping his right forearm apologetically. "We've got them splinted as best we can, but - how did you get burned, boy?"

"Burned?" Adam asked. His mother's face was ashen, but not surprised, so she must already have known. he didn't remember being burned. When could it have happened? "Oh, it must have been when Skeletor blew the casts up. My skin felt really hot then, but I didn't think I got burned."

"Blew them up?" Marlena said in a very small voice. She reached forward and took possession of his father's other hand. Randor grimaced and looked reassuringly down at his wife. Adam didn't know what to say to her look of dismay, so he just squirmed a little.

"The burn's not overly serious," Dorgan said. "Just about what you'd get if you stayed out in the sun too long, but it won't heal without air circulation. We'll have to wait till the skin heals to re-cast you."

Randor nodded resignedly. "But you're home and safe, son, and I don't think anyone is going to be fool enough to come after you now."

"Not that they could get to you," Teela exclaimed. "What with the new ten-mile expanded perimeter."

Adam's eyes widened. "Ten miles?"

His father shook his head. "She's exaggerating." Adam sighed in relief. "It's only five miles." He looked sharply at his father. 

"But doesn't that leave the troops spread a little thin?" Adam's voice squeaked as he spoke.

"Not with all the new levies that have been sent from our allies," Man-at-Arms said dryly.

"New levies?" Adam repeated.

"When they heard that the crown prince of Eternia had been kidnaped," Duncan said. "They evidently all decided that our defenses needed beefing up. We even have a contingent from Felis Qadi. Carnivus seemed particularly irate that the nice young man who'd come to speak with him had been captured by Skeletor."

"How many people know about this?" Adam asked, embarrassed beyond his ability to express it.

Teela gave a look like he was a moron. "The crown prince of Eternia was repeatedly attacked and injured, and then finally kidnaped in the most bizarre possible way by Skeletor's minions. Everyone's heard."

Adam didn't know what to say. ** Everyone knows what happened? Oh great! I'm going to get sympathetic or curious looks and comments for the rest of time. ** He groaned, then shook his head hastily when everyone looked worried.

Dorgan cleared his throat. "So, Randor, you haven't answered my question," he said. "Why didn't you kill Skeletor?"

Randor looked up, his face flushing. "He-Man went after him. And I had to get Adam home. They'd sent for reinforcements, and I couldn't take any chances."

** He-Man? ** Adam glanced up at Man-at-Arms, whose expression was singularly unreadable. He looked back at his father, perplexed. "He-Man was there?" he asked. "I thought he was on the south continent." Who could it be? Was it some magical construct the Sorceress created? Or someone somehow masquerading? An imposter?

"He must have heard of our troubles and come to our aid," his mother said softly. 

"Well, I can't disagree with you about getting Adam home, but that young man, that He-Man, really has to get serious about stopping Skeletor. He can't keep letting that - that - brute get away with things."

Adam nodded decisively. "I have a feeling he will, Dorgan." Man-at-Arms raised an eyebrow and gave him a warning look, but Adam just shrugged. Then he looked around at all of them again. "Why are you all here, anyway? If I've been back for more than a day, you can't have been here the whole time."

"I was," Teela announced informatively. "And your mother hasn't left your side. And your father's been here more than he hasn't. And my father -"

"Teela," Man-at-Arms growled.

"What?" 

"Hush."

Perhaps it was the raging paranoia that had come over him during the last couple of weeks, but Adam found himself growing alarmed. They'd all sat in here with him for hours and hours while he lay unconscious and drugged? "I am dying!" he exclaimed. "You just don't want to tell me!"

Dorgan stood up abruptly. "You're not dying, boy! You can trust that I would tell you." He shook his head and looked at the gathering. "Now, I think it's time for us to disperse, and dissipate the deathbed atmosphere of this room."

None of the others looked disposed to move. "All right, Teela," the healer said brusquely. "I think it's time for a little more physical therapy."

"But -" 

"You can pester the boy later. Come along."

"Yes, Teela," Man-at-Arms said, patting her shoulder. "He's not going anywhere."

She opened her mouth, but didn't say anything, for which Adam was profoundly grateful. He himself would rather believe that he wasn't going anywhere. Giving Cringer a final scratch, she sighed, reached over, gave Adam's right shoulder a light punch and got out of bed.

"All this room needs is a crowd of the boy's friends hanging about to make the atmosphere complete," Dorgan said as he went to the door. Raon nearly fell through the aperture when the healer opened it. Fortunately, he caught himself before he knocked Teela off her crutches. Beyond him, Adam could see a large gathering of the masters.

It was nothing so much as a mob scene. At Marlena's nod of invitation, they flooded in and began to pepper Adam with welcome homes and questions they didn't give him time to answer. 

Stratos tried to speak with him, but he was drowned out by all the others. The dignified Avion gave up and, smiling at Adam, indicated he would wait until the others had their turns.

Mekanek, stuck at the back of the crowd, used his usual technique for viewing parades and extended his neck to speak to Adam. "How a doing, kid?" he asked cheerfully. 

"Okay," Adam said. "Sorry to be the cause of so much trouble."

"You're not the cause," Ram-Man exclaimed. "It's that rotten Skeletor, and that witch Evil-Lyn! I ought'a drop another tree on her."

"That sounds good," Adam said brightly. "But only if I get to watch!"

"We'll make sure of that," Man-E-Faces declared. "We'll turn it into a performance. The Last Days of Evil-Lyn! People will come from miles around to see it. I, of course, will play the tree."

Adam laughed out loud. All the masters looked pleased by this reaction. Buzz-Off, though, turned away after a moment, looking somewhat dejected. 

"Buzz-Off? Are you okay?" Adam asked.

"Fine," Buzz-Off murmured. 

"No, really, Buzz-Off, what's wrong?" Adam said. "I can see that something's distressing you."

Mekanek nodded. "He's been acting odd ever since the medesmas took you away."

"I should have been able to deal with those wretched creatures!" Buzz-Off burst out suddenly. "They swarm through Andrenos every five or six years."

"Oh," Ram-Man said. "How do you usually deal with them?"

Buzz-Off looked embarrassed. "We harvest as much of the ambrosia as we can, seal it away, then hide in our houses and lock the doors till they're gone."

"Then why should you have been able to deal with it?" Adam asked reasonably.

"I just should," Buzz-Off declared. "Stratos and I were in charge of your aerial defense, and during the one aerial attack, I pulled in my wings and fought like a grounder!"

"But what choice did you have?" Mekanek asked. "Everyone was grounded!"

"Stratos tried to help him. Maybe if we'd both flown together, we could have made it past the creatures."

"I doubt it," Stratos said. "The only reason I got as high as I did was my jet packs, and they clogged those very quickly."

"Clogged?" Adam asked, feeling slightly nauseated. "Eeuw!" 

Mekanek nodded fervently. "Man-at-Arms is still trying to clear them out. It's rough work."

"They should be done in a couple of days, Stratos," Man-at-Arms said.

The Avion acknowledged the news with a grateful nod, and turned back to Buzz-Off. "The point is, you would have risked crippling injuries without furthering our cause. Those creatures were truly invidious."

"And I don't want that!" Adam exclaimed. "I'm all right, Buzz-Off, and you helped get me back, right?" The Andrenid nodded. "You did your best, then. Thank you. Thank you all." 

All in all it was a very wearying half-hour. Finally, he pled exhaustion, and they cleared out again, leaving him alone with Man-at-Arms and his parents.

His mother was the first to speak into the long silence that fell over the room. "Adam, what did happen to you at Snake Mountain?"

Adam shrugged, lips pursed. "I've really told you everything, I think. How long was I there, anyway? What happened after I left?"

Duncan cleared his throat. "The medesmas kept attacking for about twenty to thirty minutes more." He looked to the king for confirmation. Randor nodded. "Then they just seemed to lose impetus, and flew away."

Adam cocked his head thoughtfully. "That must have been about when Beastman was knocked out."

All three of his listeners exclaimed in surprise. "What do you mean? Who knocked Beastman out?" his father demanded.

Adam shrugged. This was where it got hard to explain. "Well, he looked like He-Man, but it doesn't make sense."

"He-Man rescued you from Beastman, but you still wound up at Snake Mountain?" his father asked perplexedly.

"That's what I mean," Adam said. "I lost consciousness shortly after He-Man knocked Beastman out, then I came to with Skeletor asking Evil-Lyn how she got me away from He-Man. It just doesn't make sense."

"No, it certainly doesn't," Duncan said musingly.

"Well, it all came out right in the end," Randor said firmly.

"But how long was I there?" Adam asked again.

"Well, it took us about five hours to get to Snake Mountain," Man-at-Arms said slowly.

"We wasted some time, trying to find your trail. We couldn't be sure they'd take you to Snake Mountain, and flying creatures are hard to track." Adam looked at his father from under wrinkled brows. Was he trying to justify something? He sounded kind of defensive, and his face was lined with distress. "We searched the uplands for you, and I sent some men searching the lowlands - just in case - we didn't know -" His eyes seemed to be looking out on some dismal landscape.

Adam nodded. "I thought for a little while that they might be planning to just take me up high and drop me." All three of them looked slightly sick, and Adam could see that the same thought had occurred to them.

"What did happen?"

Shrugging, Adam said, "It doesn't really matter, does it? I'm home, I'm safe, and I don't -"

His mother stood up abruptly. "You're just like your father!" Adam shrank back from this maternal displeasure, and exchanged a glance with his father, who appeared equally baffled. "I'm going to look in on Lady Asala and Fenella. Perhaps you will tell your father and Man-at-Arms what happened. And then Duncan will tell me. Right?" Man-at-Arms - face devoid of all expression - nodded. "Thank you." She nodded sharply, then her eyes softened and she walked around to the other side of the bed, past Dorgan's stool. She bent down and kissed him on the forehead. "I love you, Adam," she said, tucking some hair back out of his face. Then she gave her husband a steely glance, and left the room.

"What was that all about?" Adam asked, bewildered.

Man-at-Arms' lips twitched slightly. "You did, in fact, sound just like your father on several occasions when she's asked for details about some occurrence." Randor glared at his friend. "She seems to think that she should know what happens to her boys."

"I hate to make her worry," the king said. "I always tell her the general outline of what happened. I just don't think she needs the unpleasant details. Once it's over, why dwell on it?" Adam nodded his agreement. Randor looked at him, then looked away. "Well, in any case, Adam, what did happen?" 

Adam looked helplessly up at his father. "But like you just said, 'Why dwell on it?'"

"That's completely different, Adam."

"Yes," Duncan murmured. "Because it's not you, this time. Does this tell you how Marlena feels?" Randor flushed, and glared at Duncan, but he didn't say anything. After a moment, both men turned and looked expectantly at Adam. Adam scowled and sighed resignedly.

"Well, the medesmas dropped me in front of Beastman, and he made some vague threats -"

His father leaned closer, intent. "Did he touch you?" 

Adam shook his head. "No, he just leaned over me and talked about giving me to Skeletor. Then the person who looked like He-Man showed up and threw him about ten feet and knocked him out."

"Why are you so uncertain whether or not this man was He-Man? We know he came back from the South Continent. I saw him myself in Snake Mountain." Duncan had gotten up and walked around behind Randor and was giving Adam a significant look, warning him to be careful what he said. 

Adam grimaced, as if he didn't know that. "He just didn't seem right. Besides, he didn't actually pick Beastman up. It was like he levitated him or something. He didn't really touch him."

"How odd. . ." Randor said musingly, glancing back up at Man-at-Arms. "What do you think, Duncan?"

Man-at-Arms shook his head. "I think it's rather alarming that there could be someone out there posing as He-Man. We'll have be on the lookout for that."

Randor nodded. "All right, then what happened?"

Adam shrugged. "I don't know, exactly. I lost consciousness."

"And when did you regain consciousness?"

"I was on the floor of Snake Mountain. . .hoping I wasn't on the floor at Snake Mountain - in the throne room. Evil-Lyn and Skeletor were talking."

"What did they say?"

"I don't really want to -"

"Adam, we need to know," Randor insisted. "Please try to tell us everything you can remember."

"Well, at first I tried to pretend I was still out, because," he shifted, embarrassed. "Because I thought that Skeletor probably wouldn't kill me unless I was awake to notice."

"That's good thinking, Adam," Duncan said. "The longer you can draw something like this out, the better your chance of being rescued."

Adam nodded. "So, anyway, Evil-Lyn implied that she got me away from He-Man by seducing him, like that could happen." Randor and Man-at-Arms nodded agreement. "Then Skeletor seemed to figure out I was awake. He dug his thumb into my stitches, and that made me sit up quick."

"He did what?" his father demanded, standing up. 

"Randor? What are you going to do?" asked Man-at-Arms in an alarmed tone. 

The king was pacing wildly. "That monster! That vile, unspeakable villain! Summon the guard!" Adam had never seen his father this enraged. He was practically frothing at the mouth.

"Randor, we still haven't even heard all of what happened!" 

"Oh, right, that's true." Randor stopped and looked at Duncan.

"Now, sit down," Duncan said soothingly. "You're alarming your son."

"I'm sorry, Adam," his father said, sitting back on his bed. "Please go on."

Adam just looked at him for a second, then said, "Are you going to jump up and run off to Snake Mountain if I tell you anything else?"

"Um. . ." his father said. "No, I - I just want to -"

"No, he won't," Man-at-Arms said firmly. "Your mother won't let him."

Randor glared, but returned his attention to Adam. "Go on, son."

"That's when I saw Skeletor so close up. That was just bizarre." Adam shuddered. "Evil-Lyn was pushing him to kill me, but Skeletor wanted to keep me for leverage . . . against you." Randor paled and Duncan's eyes went very round. Adam wondered what his father was thinking that made him seem so very worried. 

"Then Trap Jaw came in, and - Oh!" Adam cut himself off. "What happened to the pajamas Mom made me?"

Randor blinked. "They were pretty well shredded," he said apologetically. "And they were filthy from the cell you were in, so we had to throw them away. Your mother's making you a new pair," he added, gesturing at a pile of green silk on the chair. 

Feeling faintly embarrassed, Adam said, "Trap Jaw said they were 'cute.'" Randor gave Adam a sympathetic look. "And Evil-Lyn seemed to think they felt nice." 

Both men froze and stared at him. "What?" Randor ventured weakly after a moment. 

"What did she do?" Man-at-Arms asked, biting off each word. Adam looked at him in surprise. Now Duncan seemed ready to blow things up. He was usually so calm about everything.

"She was just touching them," Adam said perplexedly. "Just running her hand over my chest, and stuff. Because they were silk, I think."

His father looked appalled. Duncan was swelling with fury. What was up with them? 

"Randor," Duncan said between deep, calming breaths. "I don't think I'm going to mention this part to Marlena. What do you think?"

"I think that's an excellent notion." 

"What's wrong?" Adam asked, giving them both bewildered looks. "She didn't do anything, really, just made a rotten crack about Mom. It was Trap Jaw who grabbed my legs in that clamp arm of his. I thought I was going to die then and there, but unfortunately I didn't. I just screamed," Adam added, mortified. "Evil-Lyn and Skeletor thought that was really funny." Adam stared up at the ceiling mournfully. 

His father leaned close and tousled his son's hair. "It's all right, Adam."

Adam shrugged. "Yeah, well, I bet you didn't scream when Skeletor tortured you. And I wasn't even tortured."

Randor opened his mouth, but nothing came out. Man-at-Arms looked grim. "Actually, Adam, he did scream, several times." 

Randor looked over at his old friend, his jaw gaping wide. After a moment of silent shock, he said, "Duncan, you swore you'd never tell a soul."

"I think he needs to know, sire. Do you want him to feel it's something to be ashamed of?"

"Of course not!" His gaze sought Adam's. "Son, you couldn't have helped it, truly."

Adam shrugged dubiously. "I guess," he said. "He-Man doesn't scream," he added sourly.

"Yes he does!" Man-at-Arms exclaimed, sounding outraged. "Adam, it's a perfectly natural response to pain, and on the magnitude you had to have been feeling it, it's no wonder. Your father, He-Man, I myself, all of us have screamed. And I guarantee you that I would have screamed in your place."

"I bet Teela wouldn't," Adam said. Duncan leaned back in his chair, eyes wide with dismay.

"Adam," his father said reproachfully. "Teela's a girl."

"Are you saying girls don't scream?" Adam asked incredulously.

"No, you just don't talk about it. Especially not in front of the girl's father."

Man-at-Arms spoke, eyes distant. "Teela is - well - Teela's unusual."

They were all three silent for a moment, considering the truth of that statement. Then Randor cleared his throat. "Well, Adam, so Evil-Lyn and Trap Jaw made fun of your pajamas, and then?"

"And then Trap Jaw picked me up and threw me in the cell. I was alone in there for awhile -"

"When you say 'threw,'" Man-at-Arms said, throwing an apologetic look at Randor. "Do you mean that he took you inside and dropped you or . . . or what?" 

Adam shrugged. "No, he really threw me. That's when I hurt my wrist, trying to keep myself from falling face-first in the muck. You never taught me how to land with my hands tied in front of me as I turned in the air. Oh, and two broken legs."

Duncan's eyes widened. "Quite an oversight on my part," he murmured anemically.

"And so, did you fall asleep in that cell?" his father asked him, finally.

"No." Adam wrinkled his brow. He knew something else had happened, but what was it. . . ? "Oh!" he said suddenly. "No, Panthor came in. He was - his claws were - I -" Randor's eyes were wide and his hand convulsed on Adam's shoulder. "Ow! Dad!"

"Oh, oh, I'm sorry, Adam. I - I don't like that creature." His father was breathing raggedly, and his skin was flushed. Adam pretended not to notice.

"Who does? Besides Skeletor?"

"What happened?" Duncan demanded.

"Well -" Adam shook his head in confusion. "He-Man came in. But - I don't know. He punched Panthor and knocked him out, but - something wasn't right! I know. He - I think he threw something at me - and I guess I got knocked out. I think -" Adam shook his head, his brows wrinkling. "I've gotten knocked out so many times lately, it's - it's just - Dorgan would tell me if I had brain damage, wouldn't he?"

"You don't have brain damage," his father exclaimed. "You're all right! I mean, you will be." He shook his head. "Well, then, that's when He-Man brought you to me, I suppose."

Adam nodded. "I guess. If it was He-Man."

Randor settle back, looking confounded. "But why would somebody pretend to be He-Man?" he asked.

"To gain our confidence?" Man-at-Arms suggested.

"He seemed like He-Man," Randor said.

"Well, you could always ask He-Man if he was here, next time you see him," Adam suggested. "He-Man wouldn't lie."

Randor nodded thoughtfully while Duncan gave Adam a suspicious look. Then Randor's eyes widened. "But, if the imposter's this good, how will we know?"

Adam and Duncan shared a look of alarm. That was a really good question.

Adam suddenly looked up. "Wait, you said he brought me to you." Randor nodded. "Brought me to you where? Here? I thought you guys found me or something."

"No, at Snake Mountain. In the throne room. I was fighting Skeletor -"

"What? You were fighting Skeletor? Wait, which you, you personally or you and all the troops?"

"Him personally," Duncan said dryly.

"The troops were there, though," Randor nodded. 

He was stopped by the image of himself brought into the throne room of Snake Mountain, battered and bruised, and wearing tattered green monogrammed pajamas. "How many troops?" he asked pathetically.

"All of the masters and two squads of the guard," Man-at-Arms said. 

Struck dumb by the humiliation of it all, Adam was silent for a moment. Then a thought occurred to him. "Is everybody okay?" he asked. "Nobody got hurt rescuing me, did they?"

"No, Adam, everyone's fine."

"Oh, good." He was relieved by this news, but still . . . twenty men and all the masters actually saw him at what must have been the most pitiful moment of his life. That was an awful lot of witnesses to share details with all those who hadn't been there

Then, abruptly, he remembered what had initially upset him. "Dad, you can't keep fighting Skeletor like this! You're old."

"You keep saying that, Adam. I'm no older than Skeletor."

"Yeah, but there's something weird about him. I don't think he counts." Adam stared earnestly at his father. "Remember what you were telling me earlier, just after Evil-Lyn and Beastman tried to take me. You've got a responsibility, too."

"Yes, but I've an heir. Until you get an heir -" Duncan's eyes were wide, and he split his gaze evenly between father and son.

"Until your heir is ready to take over!" Adam declared. "I'm not ready to be king!" His voice squeaked, but he was past being embarrassed by something as small as that. "You can't put yourself in danger like that. I'm sixteen years old! Besides, I can't lead the country in this fight against Skeletor. People look up to you. I'm just the screw-up son you keep having to apologize for."

Randor's jaw dropped and he stared, thunderstruck, at Adam, who squirmed under the intense regard. Duncan appeared nearly as stunned as the king.

"Adam, I'm sure people don't regard you that way," his father said after a moment. "Every man apologizes for his children on occasion. Our allies always ask after you."

Adam sank down into his bed. Great. People didn't regard him like that. 

"Randor!" Duncan gave his old friend a poke, and when he looked up, continued, "I don't think he cares what people think."

"But, Duncan, he said. . ." The king trailed off as his advisor gave him a significant look. "Oh." He leaned down and took Adam by both shoulders. "Son, you can't think - actually, I suppose you can." He looked away. "Adam, you're my son, and I love you very much. You make me crazy sometimes, but that doesn't mean I don't love you." Randor looked thoughtful for a moment. "I was very proud of you this afternoon. The way you handled Buzz-Off's distress was skillful and kind."

Adam sighed and smiled up at his father. It was nice of him to try and make him feel better, but Adam knew how he really felt. 

  
  


***

  
  


Skeletor raged at the whole crew of them, blasting people randomly. He'd decided it was their fault for going after the boy in the first place. Evil-Lyn had found herself a nice, out of the way nook in the throne room to think about the situation. With Skeletor, out of sight was definitely the best choice when he was irritable.

And this situation certainly required some thought. At first she had taken the naive young prince's reactions to her appearance as He-Man to be simple hysterics, but now she wondered. He had certainly been grateful enough for the help after she got Panthor out of the way, right up until he'd seen her face. 

Then the way Man-at-Arms had looked at her. . . . Something wasn't adding up. Both the boy and the tech knew something about the hero of Eternia that no one else did. But what could it be?

  
  


***

  
  


The next day Adam was drawing out more charts and timelines to help him put the Pelian war further in perspective. His mother sat in the chair, embroidering the new set of pajamas, which Adam couldn't find it in his heart to tell her he didn't want. Teela was off somewhere, not needing to be confined to bed anymore.

His father checked in frequently, as though to make sure that he was still there. Man-at-Arms was almost always with him. Cringer stayed on the bed with Adam, careful not to jar his legs. 

Just after lunch, when his father and Man-at-Arms were still there, and Teela was going over his charts to critique them, the door opened suddenly. They all tensed, but it was just Orko come floating in. The little Trollan looked worn out, but triumph flared in his eyes. 

"I found it!" he declared. "The solution to the spell."

"Well, then, Orko," Man-at-Arms said. "Go apply it."

"Actually," Orko said slowly, "I'm here to apply it." He turned and gestured and they saw that four servants were carrying two stretchers up the stairs. 

"I don't understand, Orko," Adam's mother said. "Why are you bringing them here?"

"Evidently Evil-Lyn has a taste for fairy tales," Orko said. 

Teela choked, and Adam's mother got an astonished look on her face. Randor stood up abruptly and turned away, his shoulders shaking slightly. Man-at-Arms was the only one who didn't react overtly, but his eyes twinkled. Adam felt very slow. Everyone had gotten the point but him. What was Orko talking about . . . 

Realization flared suddenly. ** Oh, no! ** "No!" Adam exclaimed. "No, it couldn't be."

Orko went on proudly. "Only a prince's kiss can wake them. And Adam's the only prince around here."

Adam flopped back on the bed. When would the torture end?

  
  


Epilogue

  
  


A man with blue skin and dark green tattoos stood near the doorway to the palace, a weapon he didn't know how to use in his right hand, standing guard as he had been instructed. So, the attacks had finally stopped. King Randor had smashed Skeletor to the floor and then ground his heel on him for awhile, or at least that was the rumor amongst the levies that had come to protect the poor prince.

What that probably meant was that Randor had let the skull-faced moron get away yet again. Everyone was incompetent! Fortunately for him, that is. Because if Evil-Lyn or any of the others had proven competent, he would not now have the chance that lay before him. Now that he was masquerading as a member of one of the levies, he was sure to wind up with the duty of guarding the prince a little more directly.

And then he could make his move.

Randor and Skeletor would both grovel before him. He chuckled, earning an odd look from his partner on the guard. He ignored the glance, enjoying the image of those two leaders of men on their knees, begging him to spare their lives. 

It would be wonderful . . .


End file.
